The moment the door swung open, I froze.

My eyes locked onto the figure crouched in the darkness.

It was... Lina.

The real Lina.

Weak. Exhausted. Barely able to lift her head. Her hair matted, clothes torn, and a thin layer of grime dusted her arms and face. Every step she had taken, every breath she had drawn in this dark, suffocating basement, had left her fragile and trembling.

I wanted to rush forward, to sweep her into my arms, but Damon's hand on my wrist froze me in place. His eyes ...