PENELOPE'S POV

Daemon cleaned the blood oozing out of the crack on my lips with a wet towel, dipping it into the bowl of water and squeezing. He kept repeating the procedure until the blood stopped leaking out.

“He started off calm,” I reported, going through the triggering memory and my narrow escape. “I should have known better,”

“There's no way you would have known,” he massaged my face with the damp towel, taking the dirt off before he sat before me. “Hopefully Lucas ...