Damian
As Selena pulled away from the curb, I leaned my head against the cool glass of the window, trying to focus on anything but the pain. The scent of Selena's perfume – too sweet, too strong – filled the car, making my stomach churn.
"You look like hell, Damian," she said, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against the steering wheel. "What's going on with you? And don't give me that 'I'm fine' bullshit."
I closed my eyes, willing the world to stop spinning. "Just tired," I lied. "Been working too hard."
Selena scoffed, the sound sharp in the confined space of the car. "Please. I've seen you overworked before. This is different." She paused, and I could practically hear the gears turning in her head. "Is it because of her? That Omega?"
My eyes snapped open, anger momentarily ov
