.
.
.
AUTHOR’S POV
The air was cool and quiet as Damon carried Sloane out of the bedroom, her sleeping body wrapped in a blanket, cradled tight against his chest.
Her head rested on his shoulder, her soft breaths warm against his neck, her face peaceful despite the chaos about to unfold.
He moved fast, his boots silent on the hardwood floor, his heart pounding as he slipped out into the empty hallway.
The mansion was still, no sound but the faint creak of the building settling in the early morning darkness. It was just before dawn, the sky outside a deep gray, and no one would suspect what was happening—not yet.
He hurried downstairs, taking the steps two at a time, Sloane’s weight light in his arms but her presence heavy in his mind.
At the bottom, he froze for a second, his
