Logan's POV
Rowan grips my arm and hauls me upright. I stand steadily on my feet even though my body protests every motion with sharp jolts of pain. My knees are trembling, my chest aching like I've been split in two. My breath comes ragged and my throat tastes of copper.
I groan, stumbling against him, my weight half-slumped against his shoulder.
"Goddess," I rasp. "Where… where the hell are we?"
Rowan exhales slowly, as though he's been holding his breath this entire time. His golden eyes flick around the cavern, reflecting dim light off the dripping stone walls. "Honestly?" he mutters, voice low, raw from shouting. "I don't know."
The answer is so blunt and unvarnished that it makes something cold unfurl inside me.
I open my mouth again, forcing the words out even though my lungs still burn. "So… are we…"
Rowan doesn't let me finish. His voice cuts through my uncertainty like a blade. "No. We're not dead."
