Arabella's POV
The tension between us had been building these past few days. Unspoken. Unavoidable.
It was choking me.
I don't know what's wrong with me.
Every time I found myself alone in the same room as Damian, my pulse betrayed me. The air would shift. The space between us would shrink. And those damn golden eyes would devour me whole without a single touch.
But tonight—tonight was different.
I had spent the entire day avoiding him.
Aamon, of course, noticed. He teased relentlessly, dropping little jabs about my newfound habit of bolting the second Damian entered a room.
Selene, on the other hand, said nothing—but the way she looked at me told me she knew.
And Damian?
Damian didn't chase me.
He didn't call me out.
Didn't pull me into another suffocating moment of tension.
