Spurn’s POV
Damon’s hand tightened around mine, not enough to hurt, only enough to remind me he was still there.
“You will be taken care of now,” he said quietly. “Food, rest, clothes, medicine, school if you still want it, anything you need. You do not have to earn safety from me, Spurn. You already have it.”
My throat burned. I kept my eyes on the clouds because if I looked at him, I might cry, and some old part of me still believed tears were dangerous. I tucked myself deeper into the seat, shoulders small, hands still, voice locked away. The jet hummed around us, too smooth, too clean, too gentle for the kind of truth sitting inside it.
Tessa broke the silence first.
“Jacob,” she whispered, and her voice shook in a way that made me look away from the window. “My parents. Cal. They
