The first rays of dawn barely filtered through the heavy curtains when Damian stirred. His body felt warm and relaxed, yet his mind had already begun to slip back into wakefulness. He felt uneasy as Storm paced inside him. There was no immediate danger, but something felt off.
Beside him, Evelina shifted, letting out a soft sigh as she buried her face deeper into the pillow.
For a brief moment, Damian let himself watch her, the way her lashes fluttered as she hovered between sleep and wakefulness, and how her breathing stayed slow and steady.
His fingers twitched with the urge to trace the faint mark at the side of her neck—his mark, the one that bound them. Mine, his wolf growled possessively, but Damian forced himself to push the thought aside.
Now wasn't the time.
Carefully, he moved to sit up, rubbing a hand over his face. There was work to be done, and he had little doubt that chaos awaited him outside those doors.
