Dorothy's POV
Consciousness creeps back slowly, bringing with it a throbbing ache that radiates through my entire body. My arms feel dead weight behind me, locked in an unnatural position that sends shooting pains up to my shoulders. Every muscle protests as I try to shift, but my limbs won't respond. The world spins sickeningly when I attempt to lift my head.
Something is terribly wrong.
"Ivy," I call out desperately through our mental connection. "What happened to us?"
"He drugged us both," she responds, her voice strained with effort. "I'm still fighting through the haze."
"Finally decided to rejoin the living, did you?"
The cold voice cuts through the fog in my brain like a blade. My blood turns to ice as recognition hits me.
Dean.
My eyes snap open, taking in unfamiliar rocky walls that curve around us. We're in some kind of cave, and the musty air tells me we're somewhere remote. Very remote.
"Where are we, Ivy?"
