Silence crashed into the room like a bomb.
And I… I was shaking.
Not from fear.
Not from pain.
From the f*****g power of it.
From the proof.
He had pretended to agree.
He had baited him.
He had dragged him down, word by word, until the man’s own filth became the blade Damon used to gut him.
I looked at Damon.
Covered in blood.
Still calm.
Still dangerous.
And then he turned to the others—those wrinkled cowards who had watched this entire thing with lust in their eyes and piss in their souls—and said:
“She’s not your toy. She’s not your b***h. She’s not just your f*****g Luna.”
He pointed to me now.
“She’s mine.”
His lips curled.
“Mine like blood. Mine like soul. Mine like f*****g destiny.”
No one dared look away. Not even me.
“And if any of you—” he began again, his voi
