Lana's POV
Damon didn’t give me a chance to protest or question his intentions. With his grip still firm around my wrist, he led me out of the corridor, past the murmuring crowd and flashing lights of the tournament arena, straight toward the black SUV parked in the restricted lane.
He opened the passenger door and gave me a look, sharp, commanding, yet undecipherable. “Get in.”
I hesitated, my instincts screaming at me to argue, but my legs moved on their own. Sliding into the seat, I pulled the door shut and immediately felt the stifling weight of the silence between us.
The air inside the car carried his inner scent, that slight but strong natural mix of cedarwood and cold steel, and it made my chest tighten involuntarily. He slipped into the driver’s seat without a word, the door
