Her eyes immediately turned red, soft and glistening, like glass catching the faint afternoon light.
It looked so much like heartbreak, like the kind of wound a man wants to heal with his own hands.
Damon froze.
For a second, she looked like the Sloane he used to know, the gentle one, the one who smiled even when she was hurting.
This was the first time he’d ever seen her act spoiled, a hint of fragility lacing her tone.
Something in him cracked.
Without thinking, he reached out to hold her.
But Sloane stepped back, her movement smooth and deliberate. Her perfume lingered between them, faint and dangerous.
“Let’s go back first,” she said quietly.
That was all it took for Damon’s lips to curl into a small, satisfied smile.
There it was, the surrender he’d bee
