Kamrynn's POV
Time doesn’t exist in this place. It’s hard to tell the days apart when every moment feels like an endless loop of misery. But if I had to guess, I’d say it’s been at least two weeks since I was thrown into this cell, though it feels like so much longer. Two weeks since I was "rescued" from the auction, if I can even call it that. Two weeks of surviving in this pit of despair, where my only company is hopelessness and a gnawing fear that I’ll never get out.
The warriors bring me meals twice a day—gruel in the morning and some hard, crusty bread at night. It isn’t good food by any means, but it’s enough to keep me and my child alive. I’m grateful for that, at least. If nothing else, I don’t have to starve.
No one has told me what will happen to me. I’ve heard no word about
