Kiera's P.O.V.
Damian was a storm waiting to break. His shoulders were tense, his jaw clenched so tightly I thought it might shatter under the pressure. I could feel his anger radiating off him in waves, the heat of it palpable even as I stood a step behind him. He was coiled, ready to spring, and every instinct in me screamed that he was about to do something reckless.
“Damian,” I said softly, my voice trembling slightly despite my effort to sound calm. He didn’t respond, his golden eyes fixed on the pack house where Rowan had disappeared moments ago. His hands were fisted at his sides, and I could see the faint tremor of his restraint fraying at the edges.
I reached out, placing my hand gently on his arm. “Damian,” I said again, firmer this time, willing him to look at me. “You can’t
