MIRABEL POV.
Damian lay on the ground, his massive form stretched out before us. Even in sleep, his body twitched, muscles flexing as if he was still fighting something—maybe himself. His breathing was rough, uneven, like he was trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from.
I swallowed, my hands curled into fists against my lap. I had never seen him like that before. Wild. Unhinged. Hurting.
Noah sat across from me, arms crossed over his chest, his jaw tense. Owen was beside him, absentmindedly sharpening a dagger, his usual smirk nowhere in sight. The three of us sat in silence, watching Damian as if he might wake up any second and start tearing through the woods again.
Noah finally broke the silence. “You should have run.”
I flinched but didn’t look at him.
“I mean it, Mirabel.”
