Damian's POV
It took more than usual to calm my wolf.
More than the forest air, more than pacing beneath the moonlight, more than clenching my fists until blood ran from the crescent moons my nails carved into my palms.
Because nothing—nothing—could quiet the fury that boiled in my blood after my father said it.
"She has to die."
Those words echoed like a death sentence in my mind, and my wolf had gone ballistic. He’d howled, clawed, begged me to shift, to run, to fight — anything but sit still while our mate was in danger.
I messed up.
Gods, I really messed up.
I should’ve kept it to myself, waited, planned, found a way to protect her without drawing his attention. But I was stupid. Naive. I thought maybe—just maybe—a part of the man who raised me would understand the miracle I’d
