I opened my eyes with a sharp inhale that scraped my throat raw.
Sweat slid down the sides of my face and into my collar. For a second I didn't know where I was. Everything around me was dark, cramped, and smelled like wet wood and old blood.
My wrists burned.
I looked down and saw rope cutting into my skin.
The chair. The same one I was bound to when Annie captured me.
…what the fuck?
My chest tightened so hard it hurt.
Damien stood in front of me with a pistol aimed between my eyes.
There was no one else in the room. Just…him.
His face was pale, almost gray.
I wanted to say something, but the words died in my throat.
Then the smile came. It was wrong. Too wide. Too calm.
"Rot in hell, you fucking monster," he said.
His voice cracked halfway through it.
Blood started running from both his eyes.
I jerked against the ropes, breathing harder now. "Damien—"
Something lunged from behind him.
Teeth sank into his neck.
He screamed once. Just once.
