Page 34 of Ravage

There's this strange sensation in my gut, making me feel like I'm intruding on an important moment. As if they both need this second to connect, to relate.

When no one says anything, it starts to dawn on Avery that she's having a moment with Damon. She straightens up, taking a small step back as her hands clasp together. She wiggles her fingers together, looking over at me with unease.

I don't know what I'm feeling or thinking, but I give her a bright grin, running my hand through my hair. "I need to go locate someone. Theo can come with me in case the guards try anything."

"Who? Where?" she asks, but I wave my hand at her.

"Don't worry about it. Stay here with Damon and work out the details of yourass. We'll be back shortly."

She tilts her head in confusion at my chilled response, chewing the inside of her bottom lip. But slowly, she nods.

I gesture for Theo to follow me, the two of us stepping outside the library. When the door closes behind us, he looks at me expectantly.

My eyes close for a second, taking a moment to gather myself from the strange emotions bubbling up.

"Where are we going?" he asks indifferently, just going with the flow.

Opening my eyes, I nod in the direction of the staff rooms. "We're going to find Christopher."

Chapter 12

Avery

The door swings shut behind Grey and Theo, leaving me alone with Damon.

He looks away, staring at a spot on the wall. His face is completely void of emotion, and if it wasn't for his breathing, I'd almost think he was dead with how still he is.

I remember how insane it felt to find out that his father was walking around the facility, sticking his nose into things. So, I'm surprised that I don't feel anything knowing the truth about Lilydale. Maybe they did manage to break me downstairs.

Or maybe my heart is broken for him.

For the longest time, I convinced myself that I knew who Damon was—he was the demon boy who treated everyone like his servants, forcing me to do things against my will. I hated him, despised the way he looked at me. But the truth is finally out.

He was never my enemy.

It's clear that there's more to the story, but I can't get over the fact thathe's here.If his family owns Lilydale, then they arethe reason he is locked up. Otherwise, he'd be somewhere else, right?

I always wore my trauma subconsciously on my sleeve—everyone who ever met me could tell I was fucked up. Even when I tried to hide it, I could never stop the feelings and hurt from crashing and pouring out of my soul. They just pretended I didn't exist, too preoccupied to pay me any mind. But the signs were there in every little thing I did.

I never stopped to think that someone like Damon could be hurting too. He seems so put-together, always making me wonder why it felt like he didn't belong here. There were no signs of trauma or abuse, no obvious tragic backstory. Yet, here he was.

"Damon," I say, breaking the silence.

He doesn't respond, but his eyes quickly move to mine. They are still so empty—socontrolled.

"You're not your father," I blurt out, unsure what to say or do with this new information. But part of me wants to comfort him. If his relationship with his father is anything like mine was, then he needs to hear it. Too often we are seen as clones of our parental figures, painted as villains if they are bad people. And in here, it's easy to do so because, to society, we are the savages that need to be locked away.

If my time in Lilydale has taught me anything, it's that we're victims. We all have alibis and excuses for what we did to end up here.

His demeanor breaks slightly, eyes narrowing as he looks at me like he's just seeing me for the first time.

"I'm a monster like my father," he answers tonelessly. "Just a different breed."

"I would bet everything that I own that he made you that way."

A dark smile crosses his face, seemingly amused that I'm not denying that he's bad. "Is that so?"

I nod slowly with uncertainty, scared to push him too far. "Not all monsters are born. Some are created—like me."

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