Damon
The sting on my jaw hadn’t faded yet. Neither had the bruises across my ribs or the humiliation coiling in my gut like a snake preparing to strike.
I sat in the corner of the strategy room, shirtless, a cold pack pressed to my side, while Selene paced like a restless predator. Her nails clicked against the polished table every time she passed by, her lips drawn in a thin line of rage.
“You let her humiliate you,” she hissed. “In front of her mother. In front of me!”
I didn’t respond immediately. I didn’t need to. I was still seething, still seeing red. Lyra. That insolent little wolf had dared put her hands on me, again. Me. After everything I had done for her. After everything I still planned to do with her.
“She will pay,” I said flatly, letting the words hang heavy in the air
