Damon's POV
The room was suffocating with the scent of fear and sweat. My chest screamed for mercy, but I shoved the pain aside, forcing myself upright. I wasn’t done. Not yet. I had to know if what this witch was spewing had any truth to it.
“You don’t believe a word she says, do you?” John asked, his voice laced with doubt.
“There’s only one way to find out.” My gaze locked onto the spy, the pathetic excuse for a man chained in the corner. The moment I started toward him, he broke down, blubbering like a damn child.
“Alpha, please! No one! I swear, I’m not working for anyone!” he cried, his voice cracking. The stench hit me before I noticed the growing stain on his pants. The bastard had pissed himself.
“Pathetic,” I muttered, my jaw clenching as I fought the urge to end him right
