Slowly, Damien lifted his gaze, and standing ahead of him was Adeline. Her fists were balled tightly at her sides, shoulders squared, and her chest heaving. She glared up at him, trembling not with fear but with a rage that matched even his own.
Enzo exhaled a deep, tired sigh, his body aching as he brushed the dust off his clothes and pushed himself up from the ground.
As he moved, the loose strands of hair that had fallen over his eyes fluttered, blocking some of his vision. With a swift toss of his head, he threw them back, his blue eyes clearing as he focused on what mattered most—Adeline.
When he reached her, he lifted a hand and cupped her cheek in his palm, his thumb brushing lightly along her skin as he turned her face toward him.
"Are you alright, my love?" He asked softly, his voice so tender that, for a moment, the violence and chaos surrounding them seemed to fade.
