Mikel watched helplessly as one of Harry's men threw another bucket of water over Isla.
He pulled at his chains with what little strength he had left, but he knew it wasn't going anywhere.
Unfortunately, that wasn't what he was most worried about.
What worried him most was that Isla didn't react.
She just shivered, but otherwise her chin rested on her chest.
She made no noise, didn't fight the binds that held her to the chair, nothing.
This was the third day of the treatment, and everyday they did something different to her.
The first day they whipped her thighs and back, the next day they had cut into her stomach, now today they doused her with water every hour.
At least, Mikel assumed it was day by day; there was no sense of time down here in the dark.
The worst part was they weren't doing any of this to get something out of Isla, they were just doing it to cause her pain.