Damon’s POV
I carried the tray up the stairs, the scent of roasted chicken and herbs mingling with the faint scent of Aria that still clung to the air. The house had finally quieted down after the chaos of the last few hours, and for once, it felt like we might actually get a moment to ourselves.
Arlo had disappeared to do whatever it was eccentric warlocks did when they weren’t making cryptic remarks, and the rest of the pack was spread out across the territory. But here I was, balancing a tray of food like some dutiful housemate. If anyone made a crack about it, I’d just call it damage control—for Aria’s health, obviously.
Pushing the door open with my foot, I stepped into the room. She was sitting up in bed, a book open in her lap, though her eyes weren’t on the pages. They were on m
