SAMANTHA
Jayce's grip on my arm was iron as he dragged me through the dimly lit corridors of the palace. My bare feet slapped against the cold stone floor, and I stumbled to keep up with his relentless pace. The air was thick with tension, and distant screams echoed through the walls like the cries of the damned.
"Jayce, slow down!" I gasped, trying to pull free. "Where are we going?"
He didn't stop, didn't even glance back. "Finnian escaped the dungeon," he said, his voice tight with barely controlled panic. "He's tearing through the palace. Guards are down. Servants are fleeing. If we don't find him soon, there's no telling what he'll do."
My heart lurched. "What do you mean he escaped? I thought the elders—"
