Damien's POV
I feel it before I see it. Someone’s hand on her wrist, and something in my chest goes off like a struck bell.
I find the source a second later. A young warrior named Kael, blocking her path at the tables, his fingers wrap around her wrist like it belongs to him. Brie keeps her head down, balancing the tray, not pulling away. That stillness costs her something. I know it now.
I lean against a thick oak tree, my fingers digging into the rough bark until the wood gives way under my nails.
Her movements are fluid, graceful, yet she moves as if she is trying to occupy as little space as possible.
Kael laughs. His hand lingers on her wrist and his fingers brush against the sensitive skin I touched only yesterday.
Before my mind can catch up to my body, I cross the clearing in
