Alina’s body trembled in Damon’s arms. The scent of his cologne—dark, familiar—wrapped around her, but even that couldn’t chase away the terror clinging to her skin. The sharp tang of blood filled the air. Adrian’s body lay crumpled on the floor, his breaths ragged, shallow.
Damon had won. **But at what cost?**
The storm outside raged, wind howling against the warehouse walls. Every nerve in Alina’s body screamed to leave, to run far away from the violence, from the chaos that seemed to follow Damon like a shadow. But his arms tightened around her, his grip unyielding, and deep inside, she knew—**there was no running from him. Not anymore.**
A groan from the floor snapped her back to reality. Adrian was still alive. Barely. His chest heaved with each painful breath, blood seeping
