Her breath caught.
She hadn’t heard Damon say her name like that in years, not edged with command or cold dismissal, not thunderous with Alpha weight. Today, it was low, mellow… almost tender. Like the man he’d been before their marriage rotted into resentment.
For a moment, it felt as though the years had folded back, and she was standing there as a young wolf bride again, before every conversation had turned into a fight, before the bitterness.
Her pulse skipped, and even her wolf stirred uneasily beneath her skin.
Damon’s voice was clipped, businesslike, the way he handled board meetings.
“Sloane, Caleb’s running a fever. The doctor says it’s pneumonia. He needs his mother.”
The silence on the other end stretched long enough that he thought she might hang up.
Fina
