Damon’s Point of View
The second those wide blue eyes lock onto mine, the entire world seems to stop.
For a few seconds, neither one of us moves.
Shock crashes through me so hard that my wolf practically slams against my ribs.
Her.
It’s her.
The woman from the bar.
The woman I have not stopped thinking about for weeks.
The woman whose scent has haunted me every damn night since I left that motel room.
And now here she is, standing in my house.
My house.
At two in the morning.
Wearing tiny sleep shorts and looking at me like she has seen a ghost.
Mate.
My wolf practically roars the word inside my head.
Every instinct I have surges violently towards her and the need to cross the room and touch her hits me so hard it almost physically hurts.
A soft gasp leaves her lips again.
