Damon didn't hesitate for even a fraction of a second. He opened his fingers, letting the heavy metal weapon slip from his grip and fall into the damp dirt with a loud, hollow thud. His dark eyes remained fixed on the man holding the weapon, cold and unreadable as glass. Not a single trace of panic flickered across his face. He carried the absolute composure of a predator who had stood at the edge of death a hundred times over, completely unimpressed by the loaded barrel pointed in his direction.
"I dropped the weapon just as you requested," Damon stated, his deep baritone as steady as iron. "Now let her go."
Mark didn't pull the heavy steel away from my temple. Instead, he bared his pointed fangs, shouting wildly as flecks of saliva flew from his lips. "Turn around right now! Walk forwa
