Damon's POV
The basement was identical to the one in the video.
Same folding chair. Same bare bulb hanging from a frayed cord. Same rough concrete wall stained with damp and time. Down to the angle of the dust drifting through the cone of yellow light, every detail matched.
Everything except Kate.
I stood in the center of that mildewed room and felt my wolf clawing at the inside of my ribs. Since breakfast, since I had watched my father sit across from Damian and casually endorse him pursuing Kate, that urge to tear something apart had been building. Now it had teeth. I wanted to put my fist through the wall. I wanted to peel the concrete back layer by layer until I found her.
But I couldn't fall apart. Not yet.
We had cast a wide net. Pulled every favor, every camera, every contact
