Rat Trap

Last Night

The flickering torchlight cast long, jagged shadows across the cold stone walls of a subterranean dungeon.

Arya exhaled a soft, agonized groan, her eyelashes fluttering open as consciousness slowly returned to her.

Her mind was foggy, her body aching from where she had been thrown against the stone wall in Lord Aaron's chambers earlier that evening.

As her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the pitch-black holding cell, her heart instantly skipped a beat.

Realizing she was bound in an unfamiliar location, she scrambled to push herself upright, her breath catching in her throat as panic surged through her chest.

"I wouldn't move if I were you, little rat," a smooth, chilling voice echoed from the darkness.

Arya froze in sheer terror.

A tall figure stepped out from the oppressive shadows into the faint glow of the iron brazier.

It was Malcolm Tezor.