The air in the dining hall felt impossibly dense, each second stretching longer than the last. Damien’s muscles remained coiled, his fists clenched, as if the slightest wrong move could ignite the storm he carried inside.
Then a soft voice cut through the thick tension.
“You won’t.”
Damien’s head snapped up.
Maya stood in the doorway, Harper beside her. Her eyes were still a little red, cheeks flushed from the wind and the walk along the beach—but the way she looked at him, soft, steady, and certain, stole the breath from his lungs.
“Maya…” His voice came out rough, barely more than a whisper.
She took a small step into the room, gaze locked on his. “Can we talk?”
Damien nodded—immediately, instinctively.
Her eyes drifted to the others, resolve hardening in her expression. “All of
