His Mate, My Spy
“The next I was back in the village.”
The wolf went still.
“Our village?” he asked, the tone sharper now.
Damien nodded slightly, though the movement was unnecessary. “The same one,” he said. “The same day.”
The words hung heavily between them.
“I was reliving it,” Damien continued, his gaze unfocused as the images came back to him in fragments—smoke, fire, the sharp echo of gunfire cutting through the air. “The fire, the chaos… everything. It was all there again, exactly the way it happened.”