[Prequel to this]
“Interrogator,” the lead cultist drawls, a lopsided smile showing her blackened, broken teeth. “Darlings, we caught ourselves a big fish.” Her breath is vile as she leans in close. Ariadne jerks her head back as far as the grunt’s grip on her shoulders will allow, lips curling in disgust. “Traitor scum,” she snarls.
“You will make a pretty trophy, hmm? You will make my name for me. The dreadful Inquisition, brought low and caged.” “I will see you all burn,” Ariadne promises, but the woman laughs in her face.