Damien’s POV
Ofelia’s fingers hovered over the dark stain on my jacket.
For one second, neither of us moved.
She stood beside the chair near the side entrance, coffee forgotten in her other hand, while I remained in the doorway with my phone still pressed against my palm. Her face had gone pale. Her eyes moved from the torn sleeve to me, searching for an explanation I could not give her.
I should have removed the jacket myself.
I should have burned it before sunrise.
Instead, exhaustion had made me careless.
“What happened to this?” she asked.
I crossed the room and took the jacket from the chair.
“It’s nothing.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“There’s blood on it.”
“An animal was injured.”
“What animal?”
“One from the forest.”
She stared at me.
The lie was too simple, and we both knew
