[Damian]

The physical wounds had healed with supernatural speed, but the air in the packhouse still tasted like ozone and secrets.

I lay on my side, the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall sounding like a countdown I couldn’t stop. Lyra had just rolled off me, her body limp and warm from our climax. She wrapped her hand around mine and laid her head on my chest, a small, content smile on her face that made my skin crawl with guilt.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered, kissing my ...