Damian’s POV The city stretched beneath us, a sea of glittering lights under an ink-black sky. My private rooftop was silent except for the hum of the night breeze and the faint sound of music drifting from the speakers I’d had set up. Candle lanterns lined the edge, casting a soft golden glow over the terrace—a deliberate design to assert my control and create an atmosphere that would encourage… intimacy. Yet here I stood, losing every ounce of that control because of one woman. Ava. She walked ahead of me, her heels clicking softly against the polished stone floor, the wind teasing strands of her hair loose from the elegant knot she’d arranged earlier. The moonlight caught on her bare shoulders, making her look almost ethereal, as if she didn’t belong in this ruthless world I ruled. She belonged somewhere softer, safer… but she was here—with me. The way her dress hugged her curves drove me wild, and with every step she took, my wolf stirred within me, his voice deep and demandi
Damian’s POVThe car was silent, save for the rhythmic hum of the engine and the occasional soft rustle of Ava’s movements beside me. She sat there, her fingers nervously tangling in her lap, the moonlight slipping through the tinted glass and casting a gentle glow over her delicate profile. For a fleeting moment, I wanted to reach out and feel that warmth, to anchor myself in the solace she brought.You want her.The voice of my wolf was low, primal, humming through my veins with a dangerous urgency.She’s ours, he growled, possessiveness thickening the atmosphere around us. Not just the human side of me—the beast claims her too.I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as I fought against the surge of heat crawling up my spine. She’s not ours. She’s my responsibility. That’s it, I snapped back, trying to banish the waves of desire threatening my resolve.My wolf laughed darkly, a rumbling growl that swirled through my mind. Responsibility doesn’t make your p
Damian’s POV Ava's soft smile didn't quite reach her eyes as she glanced my way, but it knocked the breath out of me all the same. It was a fragile expression—one I had seen far too often lately—and it made me ache to gather her up and shield her from all the hurt and uncertainty that clouded her life. As she turned back to Eli, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead with a tenderness that ignited a wildfire within me, something primal stirred. I wanted that touch. That gentleness. That piece of her she guarded so fiercely, and yet I felt like an outsider standing at the door of a home I desperately wanted to enter. My wolf's voice slithered through my mind like smoke. “You want her to look at you the way she looks at him.” She will. “Claim it.” Not here. Not now. I forced myself to stay rooted by the door, hands buried in my pockets to stop them from curling into fists. The sight of Ava laughing—a soft, shaky sound—as Eli cracked some joke I couldn’t hear felt like music p
Damian’s POVThe hospital smelled of antiseptic, faint blood, and the lingering anxiety of families waiting for news—a stark contrast to the warmth that clung to Ava like sunlight. Her light, her fire, drew me in, even as I stood rooted in place behind her. She walked ahead, her pace quick, almost desperate, the rhythmic clicking of her heels against the sterile tiled floor echoing in the quiet hallway. For the first time, I saw her without that stubborn, icy mask she always wore around me. Today, the barriers she usually kept sturdy and unyielding were clearly cracking. The tension in her shoulders and the way her hands trembled gave away her vulnerability, and I hated that I felt powerless to ease her fears.Why is my chest tight?My wolf stirred immediately, a deep, mocking voice resonating in the back of my mind. “You know why.”Shut up.“She’s worried for him. Look at her.”I didn’t need the reminder. Every fiber of her being was straining toward that door at the end of the corr
Damian’s POV The Kitchen Scene Her fingers slipped into mine as we padded towards the kitchen, both barefoot and still wrapped in the remnants of last night—me in comfortable sweatpants, her in one of my shirts that barely brushed the tops of her thighs. The sight of her stirred something heat-laden and possessive within me, a feeling that both thrilled and unsettled. But for now, I pushed those thoughts aside. The kitchen greeted us with soft morning light filtering through the tall windows, illuminating the space in a golden hue. It felt different today. Warmer. Alive. Ava looked around, her eyes shining with curiosity, as she took in the expansive space. “This is the first time I’ve seen this place without five people running around making meals,” she commented, the playful lilt in her voice making me smile. I smirked, opening the refrigerator with a flourish. “That’s because I don’t usually cook. But for you…” I gestured dramatically, “I’ll make an exception.” She giggled,
Damian's Pov “Don’t get me wrong,” she laughed softly, “I think you might need some brushing up. But last night—let’s just say you left me breathless.” “Okay, that I’ll take,” I admitted, leaning closer and kissing the tip of her nose. “But just know, I’m still a work in progress.” Ava regarded me with an amused look, amusement dancing in her eyes. “You, Damian Blackwood, are a masterpiece in progress.” “Flattery will get you everywhere.” I chuckled softly, feeling the warmth swell in my chest at her words. “Good, because I plan to use it often,” she quipped lightly, a grin breaking across her face, and that simple smile managed to bring a surge of something indescribable over me—a swelling pride, a sense of purpose that I hadn’t felt in years. “Consider me putty in your hands then,” I teased, swirling my fingers affectionately through her hair, savoring the mundane yet intimate act of being close to her. But as we lay there, wrapped in each other, I also felt a sense