Rayna POV
Some things feel more dangerous than the blade. Like his hand on my lower back, steady. Reluctant. Warm.
The camp was quiet as we walked.
Too quiet.
Not just the normal lull after training or meals - this was the heavy, loaded silence that follows when something cracks wide open and everyone’s waiting to see what bleeds out.
The few wolves we passed looked at us like they were seeing ghosts. Or worse - omens.
No one spoke.
Damon stayed half a step behind me, his presence a shadow just brushing mine. He didn’t speak either. But the weight of him was there - the tension in his shoulders, the careful restraint in the way his fingers hovered near mine and never quite touched.
And gods, I could still feel him. His kiss burned on my lips like a secret I didn’t know how to keep.
