Willow POV
My skin still burned where Damian had touched me. I stood by the sink, flexing my hand, like I could shake off the memory of his touch. The cut had healed already—no surprise there—but the phantom sparks still traced up my arm as the low murmur of voices drifted back into the cabin as Damian escorted Elder Ulric out.
With a frustrated huff, I shoved away from the counter and began picking up the glasses from the sitting area. The tension sat under my skin, sharp and restless, and if I didn’t do something with it, I was going to snap. Cleaning was as good a place to start as any.
The past hour played over in my head as I straightened my new home. Something about Elder Ulric lingered in my mind. He was too quick, too eager, like he’d already decided how this would play out be
