Damon's POV
I poured two bourbons, neat. One for me, one for Drake. It wasn’t exactly a celebration, but after everything we’d just dealt with, it felt like the least we deserved. The pack house was quieter than usual, save for the faint hum of footsteps above as Aria took Ronan and Mathias to the medical bay. She was always doing something—fixing, helping, being exactly the kind of Luna I didn’t deserve but somehow ended up with.
Drake leaned against the kitchen island, watching me with that casual, half-amused smirk that said he thought he had me all figured out. “What’s with the drinks? Finally admitting you like me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I muttered, sliding a glass across the counter to him. “If I wanted company, I’d find someone who doesn’t annoy me on a regular basis.”
He ch
