Damon’s POV
The voice coming from the darkness sounded exactly like mine.
“Too late.” He said.
Ragnar surged beneath my skin, making my bones ache as my claws extended and my attention locked on the stairwell.
That is not us.
For once, I agreed without argument.
Vespera stood beside me, Gideon's brass key clenched in her fist and her silver wrist mark glowing beneath the doorway's light. Her heartbeat was fast but controlled, with fear lingering beneath her usual scent of rain and wildflowers.
She wasn't backing away. Naturally, the woman treated danger as a personal insult.
“Tell me you heard that.” She whispered.
“I heard it.” I said.
“Good. I was beginning to worry the ancient doorway had started impersonating people specifically to annoy me.” She said.
“It's a possibility.”
