In the darkest corner, he stood motionless, his fingers tracing the edge of a recent photograph of them.
The image captured Scarlett with her beautiful hair catching the sunlight, and Damon with his arm wrapped protectively around her waist.
His breath hitched, a sound somewhere between a growl and a sob. Hatred burned in his chest like acid, eating away at whatever humanity remained.
How dare they be happy? How dare they build their perfect little life while his lay in ruins around him?
“Look at you both,” he whispered, his voice rough from disuse. “So perfect. So innocent.” His fingers dug into the photograph, creating deep creases across the smiling faces.
His dark eyes narrowed as he studied their features. “If only they could see what I see; the destroyers, the thieves, the archi
