[: 3rd POV :]
As Daniel stepped closer, the details came into focus, and what he saw ignited a storm inside him more violent than anything he had felt in years.
The little girl, no, the hatchling was barely clinging to consciousness.
Her delicate body trembled with every shallow breath she took.
Her skin, pale and marred, was covered in bruises with purple blotches staining her arms, legs, and even her neck.
Her once-pristine clothes, clearly crafted with care and meant for exploration, hung off her like rags.
Torn fabric, frayed seams, and deep gashes told a story of violence, of someone who had been thrown, dragged, and bound like an animal.
Dried blood crusted around the edges of her wounds.
Fresh scratches ran across her cheeks and shoulders.
But what made Daniel's heart clench, what truly pushed him past the edge of fury, were the red, raw marks around her wrists and ankles.
It clearly indicated that she was chained.
