I scramble off the table, grabbing the sweatshirt to pull around me. “Damien. Stop. Just wait. What if it’s a trap?”
He turns.
And for the first time, I see something raw in his expression. Something close to… guilt.
“It is a trap. And I’m walking straight into it.”
I move toward him. “Then let me come with you.”
He grabs my wrist—fast. Not hard. Just final.
“No. You stay here. You wait for me. If I’m not back by morning…”
He trails off.
I can’t breathe.
“Damien—”
“If I’m not back by morning, lock every door. Burn the fucking building down if you have to. Don’t let him touch you.”
His mouth crashes into mine—hot, desperate, claiming. I kiss him back like it’s the last time I’ll taste him. Because some part of me is terrified, it is.
He pulls away, eyes blazing.
“Don’t forget who you belong to.”
And then he’s gone.
Slipping into the night like a shadow, with blood beneath its nails.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
DAMIEN
The night air slices through me, but I don’t feel it.
I move like a shadow—silent, controlled, hunting.
The coordinates from the message led me to a warehouse on the edge of the shipping yard, half-buried in fog and silence. No guards. No cameras. No movement.
That alone should’ve told me it was a trap.
But I came anyway.
I always fucking would.
The lock on the front door is cut. Not forced—precisely snipped.
Whoever did this knew the building. Knew I’d follow. Knew I’d be alone.
I step inside.
The place is dark except for the faint buzz of one flickering overhead light.
It swings gently, as if someone brushed past it seconds before I arrived.
Good. Let him run. I want to see what he looks like when he realises I bite back.
