The penthouse felt quieter after Elara left.
Not peaceful.
Charged.
Like the air itself understood something dangerous had shifted between Damien and me.
Rain moved softly against the windows overlooking Ashbourne while city lights blurred gold beneath storm clouds. Somewhere far below, the Black Quarter waited like a bruise beneath the polished skin of the city.
And Damien stood in front of me looking at my hand against his chest like it was the only thing grounding him to reality.
“I didn’t mean that,” he said finally.
I raised an eyebrow slightly. “The haunted part or the impossible-things part?”
A faint shadow of amusement crossed his face.
“Both.”
“Liar.”
His hand tightened carefully around my wrist.
Not enough to trap.
Enough to feel.
“You’re exhausted,” he murmured ins
