Damon’s POV
The drive back to the lake house was oppressive, the kind of tension that pressed against my skull and refused to ease. My grip on the steering wheel was tight, my knuckles white, as I forced myself to focus on the road. Normally, I could drive on autopilot, letting my thoughts wander while instinct guided the car, but tonight felt different. The storm in my head was relentless, and I couldn’t shake the image of Aria standing there, agreeing to sacrifice herself as if her life was some bargaining chip.
How could she?
Aria sat in the passenger seat, her face unreadable, gazing out the window as if the passing trees held answers to questions she hadn’t voiced yet. Drake was in the back, shifting uncomfortably, probably wishing he’d walked back instead of being stuck in the mid
