AVA GOBSON'S POV.
I hadn’t been ready for her.
She wasn’t doing anything. She didn’t have to. Her very presence seemed intentional, as if she had planted herself there to be noticed. My chest was constricting with such speed that I terrified myself. I knew that face.
Not intimately. Not warmly. But enough that my wolf winced in distaste, confusion, and memory smacking together in a way that I didn't have time to sort out before I could react. Shock flickered across my face before I could catch it, and I hated myself for that. I schooled my face into neutrality, my jaw clamping tight, my fists curling at my sides.
Damien noticed anyway.
He always did. His touch grazed my lower back, lightly grounding me, and his eyes scanned my face as if he already had suspicions.
“Mother,” he said q
