Damon's POV
I watched her face—white as paper—turn almost translucent under the hospital's harsh fluorescent lights.
The nurse said her body couldn't take much more.
"Stop"—the word was already on my tongue.
Then she spoke. Said she wanted to continue. The way she said it—like she was begging the nurse to drain her dry.
This is the same woman. The one who whimpers when I squeeze her too hard. The Graysons' little princess. Spoiled rotten.
Yet there she sat. Not making a single sound. Not once. Her face completely drained—so pale it was barely there.
My throat tightened.
I should stop this.
But on what grounds?
"Other donors are here!"
The words hit me like a reprieve.
I didn't even realize it, but I'd already let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
The nurse yanked the n
