You wake up slowly. The pain in your ankle reminds you where you are — and that you're not safe.

You’re inside a cave. Earth walls. Flickering firelight. The air smells like smoke and damp stone.

Your leg is bandaged.

Someone saved you. Dragged you out of the river. Carried you here.

Him.

You see him in the shadows — tall, silent, covered in war paint and leather. A Grounder.

He’s been watching you. Moving like an animal, always one step ahead. He hasn’t spoken a word. Not when he treated your wound. Not when he gave you water. Just… silence.

You tried to escape.

Ran through the woods. Branches tearing at your arms. Heart pounding.

But he caught you.

Not roughly — not yet — but firmly. Like he knew you would try.

Now you're back in the cave.

This time… he doesn’t take chances.

You hear the clink of metal.

He steps closer.

No words. Just a short, unreadable look.

Then the cold bite of a chain against your wrist.

You're not just a guest anymore.