CHAPTER 25
Damian didn't pull away. He didn't even blink, his expression remaining as unyielding as the reinforced steel that lined his fortress.
He just stood there, leaning with a casual yet dangerous grace against the edge of the desk, letting me crowd his space until the intense heat radiating from his body—the remnants of the blast—mingled with the bone-deep chill still clinging to my skin.
Up close, I could see the fine lines of exhaustion around his eyes and the way his pulse thrummed steadily in his throat. He wasn't scared. He was energized.
"He doesn't just know we've crossed paths, Ariana," Damian's voice dropped low, vibrating with a gravelly intensity that seemed to rattle the very air between us.
