Rayna POV
Something wakes me.
A sound. A breath. A shift in the air. At first I think it’s still a dream. Then I realize - Damon’s not in the chair.
The armchair sits empty. The fire’s burned low, casting lazy shadows across the walls. The blanket at the end of the bed is still folded neatly, untouched.
The door is cracked open.
I push the covers back slowly, every muscle tense. The cool air prickles against my skin as I slip from the bed and move barefoot across the floor. I stop just before the doorframe, careful not to make a sound.
His voice cuts through the night.
Low. Clipped. Sharper than the version he uses with me.
“…She’s stronger than we thought.”
Silence. A pause. Then : “No, not yet. But it’s happening. The mark appeared.”
My breath catches.
A response follows - muf
