[Emma's POV]
The sound of dripping water greeted my ears as I woke up. Every drop rang out like a countdown of a clock. Cold cut into skin. My wrists ached—tied securely with something that wasn't rope. It throbbed weakly, alive, as if it had a heartbeat of its own.
The air reeked of rust and oil and something older… decay veiled in incense.
"Waking up, princess?"
The voice slid out of the darkness before I could see him. Damon emerged into the narrow band of light that filtered through a hole in the roof, his smile cut sharp and vicious. His black coat clung to him with rainwater, his eyes glinting with something between victory and starvation.
I attempted to shift, and the binds tightened at once, searing heat racing up my arms.
He laughed. "Don't fight it. Those aren't ropes. They
