Lana’s POV
The words “my mother” hung in the air, heavy with unspoken questions. Before I could even form a lie, Damon’s thumb swiped across the screen and he put the phone to his ear.
“Mother,” he said, his voice flat and devoid of any warmth. “What do you want?”
There was a pause on the other end, and then a woman’s voice, flustered and strangely awestruck, filtered through. “Ah, son? You’re… with Lana?”
Damon’s gaze flicked to me, holding mine captive. “She’s my world,” he stated, the words simple and absolute, like he was commenting on the weather. “And I’m definitely bound to be revolving around her, except you want me dead, mother.”
My breath caught in my throat. Stunned wasn’t a strong enough word. I felt like the ground had shifted under my feet. He’d said it so casually, so
