Damon’s head snapped back from the first punch, blood instantly trickling from the corners of his lips.
Before he could recover, another strike landed, this time to the other side of his face.
An angry growl ripped through his throat.
Blows rained down, punches, kicks, relentless and precise. He was trapped, unable to defend himself, disoriented by the onslaught.
Who are these people? Damon’s mind raced. How did they get into my villa?
HIs wolf was battling inside him unable to come out.
Sloane froze, staring in disbelief. She had opened the window herself, but hadn’t even begun to give orders. The door slammed open, and her bodyguards stormed in like a coordinated force of shadows. Every move was instinctive; every strike perfectly timed.
Damon was swiftly encircled
