{Third Person}
Werewolf Clan.
Morning arrived quietly, but there was no peace in it as Amara awoke to sharp, deep pain that gradually spread all at once.
The slightest movement sent a sting across her back, forcing a soft, broken sound from her lips. She couldn't lie on her back. Couldn't even shift properly without feeling as though her skin was being torn open again.
Her fingers curled weakly against the sheets as her breathing turned uneven. And just like that, everything she had endured since she arrived here came rushing back.
The palace. The Queen. The dungeon. The whip.
Amara squeezed her eyes shut, but it didn't help. There hadn't been a single moment of rest since she stepped into this place. Not one moment of peace.
Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes, soaking into the pillow beneath her cheek.
'Home.' The thought came suddenly but strongly.
"I want to go home…" she whispered hoarsely. Her voice trembled as more tears fell.
