Damon's POV
It started as a whisper.
Hardly, only the shadow of a sensation which ought not to be.
My chest tightened every time Aria stepped in the room, a strange pulling sensation that my mind denied, but my wolf would not overlook. I told myself it was pity. Maybe curiosity. Anything other than what it really was. Because the truth? The truth was dangerous.
She was an omega. Broken. Betrayed. A warning of all that was flimsy and messy about the world I had walled myself in.
And yet each time that her scent passed by, sweet and warm as rain-dipped pine, I forgot.
The tension was in the council chamber that morning. Maps were spread on the table, bleeding from being touched. The rogues were becoming more daring. We had lost two of the border scouts last night, and I wanted answers.
