Damon's POV
The corridor leading to the cells stretched on endlessly, every step echoing ominously against the stone walls. The air felt colder the deeper we went, the faint smell of damp earth clinging to the silence. Mathias walked a step behind me, his presence steady, while Ezra kept pace beside me, his expression unreadable but his fists clenched tight. None of us spoke. The tension was too thick, and I wasn’t in the mood for distractions.
We reached the last door, a solid iron barrier that seemed to absorb the dim light from the lanterns lining the walls. Without hesitation, I pushed it open, the creak of the hinges cutting through the oppressive quiet.
Inside, the imposter sat on the edge of the cot, his posture too relaxed for someone who’d been caught red-handed. He looked up,
