Damon POV
The night air stung my skin, cold and unyielding, as I stood at the cabin’s threshold. Blood painted the forest floor, mingling with the metallic tang of sweat and death. The chaos of the battle still buzzed in my head like an unrelenting storm, but my focus was on Lucien, cradling Olivia’s limp body against his chest.
His hands were trembling. Not from weakness—I’d seen Lucien take blows that would have shattered another man. No, this was different. He clutched her as if letting go would mean losing her forever. But the deep s***h Vladimir had carved into his ribs was still bleeding, the dark stain spreading across his torn shirt.
“Lucien,” I called sharply, stepping closer. His eyes snapped to mine, a feral glint in them, but the pain lurking behind his gaze dulled their in
