Page 315 of Master of My Life

No, not old. But not how he usually looked.

Right?

He squeezed his eyes shut as memories warred inside his mind. He was thirty.

No, forty.

He had no idea where he was.

I know this room.

He was Damian Sinclair.

I am Damian Sinclair. And so much more.

What the hell was going on?

Contradicting images, beliefs fought in his mind and he fell to his knees, holding his head.

What the hell is going on?

Someone knocked lightly on the door. “Yes?”

The door opened and a large, red-headed man walked in. “My lord? Are you all right?”

Damian squinted up at the man. He knew him. He looked familiar. “Neil?”

The man’s brows knit together and he squatted down to help Damian to his feet. “You said you

might be confused when you woke up this morning.” He led Damian to a chair near the window and

sat him down. A woman appeared in the doorway carrying a large tray and set it on the table in front

of him. She curtsied and walked away.

Neil poured him a cup of coffee and handed it to him. “Do you remember who you are?”

“Damian Sinclair.”

Neil sat down across from him and tilted his head as he studied him. “Do you remember last

night?”

Bloody images flashed through his mind once more and he winced, but as the images deepened in

his memory, he sat up straighter and lifted his chin. “I am Damian Sinclair. I am Vamar Thilduri.” He

arched his brow and smiled. “My plans are coming together.”

Damian studied the scenery as the train whisked him toward Boston. Next to him, Sydney played

solitaire on her phone, a shiver running through her body occasionally. Across from him, Lia played

with the hem of her shirt as she stared out the window.

He glanced at her, a strange feeling settling over him again. Every time he looked at Lia, a fuzzy

feeling enveloped his mind. He blinked and stared at her as images of a small girl running toward

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