We came back from the hospital a week later. The mansion was quiet, deceptively so, as though the walls themselves held their breath. Outside, the wind rattled the windows, whispering through the trees, a lullaby for the restless. But inside, tension crackled like static, unrelenting and raw. Damian was already in the study, standing by the massive mahogany desk, hands pressed against the surface as he stared at the city lights below. His broad back was rigid, every line of him taut with something dangerous, protective, and impossibly magnetic. I paused in the doorway, my stomach fluttering, heat pooling low in my abdomen. I wanted him. Always, everywhere, every moment. My body remembered the twins I had lost, the nights I had shared with Damian, every shiver, every bite, every whispered w
