Page 21 of Damien’s Mate

And this bracelet could actually be…

He tried to make himself think the word ‘magical.’ Nope.

Nope, nope, nope, nope.

If he let that roller coaster get to the bottom of the hill, then it just might rush around a curve that would give him a completely different view of everything.

He wondered of there was still time to jump off.

Or if he really wanted to.

Chapter 9

Lila felt like she’d fallen down a deep well made of cotton, and she had to fight her way to the top through piles and piles of soft muffling clouds.

For a while she thought there was someone holding her hand, keeping her from falling all the way down. She could hear him talking, but she couldn’t really understand what he was saying.

Something about diamonds, and stupidity, and never leaving her.

But that part was only a dream, because people always left.

That’s why she was going home, to the Dragonlands and the Lion Guard. To the place she really belonged.

And maybe it would feel like this, warm and safe and like someone was always holding her hand, even when there was no one there.

But then she fought her way out of the cotton clouds and she was alone, in a place that was cold, on a hard bed with sheets that smelled faintly like bleach.

Her head was pounding and she hurt all over. There had been an explosion—she remembered an explosion. She was running… running… and Damien was behind her, and then he wasn’t there—

She jerked fully awake. Damien. What had happened to Damien?

His scent hit her, and she opened her eyes.

She was in a cheap motel room, lying on the bed. Damien was across the room, sitting in an uncomfortable-looking chair, his tie off and his shirt unbuttoned. His face was half in shadow, half illuminated in the flickering blue light of the silent TV. He was focused on his phone, scrolling through something with his thumb.

He hadn’t left her after all. He was right there, even more gorgeous with his shirt open and his hair rumpled than he’d been all buttoned up in his tux.

She didn’t know what had happened. She didn’t know where she was or how they got here. She didn’t know why she hurt so bad. But he was here with her, and the surge of joy and relief was almost painful.

But when she opened her mouth, none of that came out. Instead she heard herself say, “This is your fancy hotel? Gotta admit, I’m a little disappointed.”

Her voice was nothing but a hoarse whisper, but immediately his head came up, startled, and then his face softened with relief when he saw she was awake.

He’d been worried about her, she realized. That made her feel even more… odd. No one had ever worried about her except her father—when he wasn’t focused on the mission.

Damien came over and sat carefully on the bed. “How are you feeling?”

She knew she was awake, but she touched his hand anyway to make sure this was real, that he wasn’t buried under tons of rubble. “You got out,” she murmured. “Of the house.”

“We both got out,” he said. “Barely. But then you got hit by a car. Remember?”

She frowned. It was all a jumble of images with gaps between them. The bomb. Running for the door. The parking lot. And Anton…

He’d shoved her into the path of a moving car. “Fucking Rostov.”

Damien snorted. “Yeah.”

Lila shut her eyes, trying to get it all straight. “He tried to shoot you. After the explosion.” She remembered now. Seeing Damien come out of the building, feeling that same surge of joy and relief she’d felt a minute ago, realizing he’d survived the explosion. She’d tried to help him. She’d thrown him the bracelet…