Page 64 of Damian
I’ll always come back to you.
It wasn’t just a vow anymore. It was the only thing that kept me breathing.
Her hand twitched in her sleep, fingers curling against my chest like she knew I was drifting into dark places. I covered her hand with mine, pressing it there, grounding myself in her touch.
Outside, the wind shifted, carrying a sound that had me tense for a heartbeat. Just a branch cracking, nothing more. Still, I kept my senses sharp, ears tuned to every creak of the old walls, every groan of the floorboards. The enemy was out there, circling. But so was I.
I kissed the crown of her head, the taste of her shampoo still clinging faintly in my mouth, and let the words slip out in the dark where only she could hear them.
“You’re my home, Morgan. My only home.”
And with her heartbeat steady against mine, I stayed awake, watching the door, until dawn bled through the blinds.
86
Morgan
The first thing I felt was warmth.
Not the blanket, not the pale light of morning pushing through the blinds—but the steady, unyielding heat of Damian’s body. His arm was still heavy around me, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that didn’t match sleep.
“You didn’t close your eyes, did you?” I murmured, my voice rasped with sleep.
His gaze dropped to mine, steady, alert. “Didn’t need to.”
I pushed up onto an elbow, studying him in the thin light. His hair was damp against his temple, his jaw shadowed and hard. He looked like a man who had fought through hell and was already preparing for the next round. But there was a softness in his eyes when they landed on me—something that belonged only to us.
“You can’t keep watch forever.” My fingers brushed the bandage at his shoulder, gentle as a whisper. “You need rest too.”
“I’ll get it,” he said, his voice low. His thumb traced lazy circles against my hip, as if he didn’t want me to know howtightly he was still holding on. “But I needed to see the sun come up with you safe beside me.”
A lump swelled in my throat. I leaned down, kissing the corner of his mouth, tasting the quiet promise in him. He caught my face in his hands, kissed me back slow and deliberate, like we weren’t already racing time.
The floor creaked in the other room. A beat later, Ruby’s voice came through the door,“It’s morning, are you getting up.
“Yes, we’ll be right there.”
“She’s tougher than she knows.” But the shrill buzz of Damian’s phone shattered the illusion. He caught it before the second ring, scanning the message with a soldier’s precision.
“Cyclone?” I asked, though I already knew.
His jaw tightened. “We’ve got movement. Luthor’s network isn’t sitting still.”
Fear fluttered in my chest, but I forced myself to breathe through it. This was the life we were in. This was the man I loved.
“When?”
“Soon.” He slid out of bed, muscles taut even as exhaustion tugged at him. His eyes found mine, fierce and unyielding. “I’ll be ready.”
I swallowed hard, tightening my grip on his hand. “Then so will we.”
Because if there was one thing last night had taught me, it was that I couldn’t keep him from walking into the fire. But I could damn well be the reason he came back out.
87
Damian
By the time I stepped through the command’s doors, which was set up a mile down the road from the safehouse, the mission board was already lit. Maps, photos, lines of red string connecting names. Cyclone sat cross-legged on the couch, laptop balanced on his knees, his fingers flying across keys. Gage and Oliver flanked the screens, scanning the feed like hawks waiting for prey.
