Katrina’s POV
The fire from the ambush still lived in my skin. Even after Damon dragged me back to the penthouse, even after the doors shut and the locks slid home, I couldn’t shake the terror. My hands wouldn’t stop trembling.
I sat curled on the edge of the vast bed, my arms wrapped around myself. The silence pressed in on me, thicker than smoke.
Then the mattress dipped.
Damon sat beside me, his presence swallowing the room, his eyes burning with a heat I couldn’t name. He didn’t touch me at first. He just sat there, letting the silence stretch until my pulse slowed.
Finally, he spoke. His voice was softer than I’d ever heard it.
“You’re safe now.”
Safe. The word felt too fragile, too breakable. “You can’t promise that,” I whispered.
His head turned sharply, his jaw tense. “Yes,
