Damian's POV
What. The. f**k.
I was sure as hell holding my mate—not a cold-blooded, soulless, walking corpse of a bloodsucker.
I was sure as hell holding my mate when I closed my eyes. Her soft body tucked against mine, her scent—warm, earthy, uniquely her—filling every breath. I remember the steady rhythm of her breathing, the subtle way her fingers had curled into my shirt. That comfort? That warmth? That peace?
Yeah. That was my mate
And yet, when I shot up from sleep, instinct on full alert after hearing the unmistakable thud of someone hitting the floor, who was in my arms?
Lucian.
Now I’m wide awake, and the first thing I see when I open my eyes is Lucian’s pale, smug, f*****g undead face two inches from mine.
Worse? Our limbs are tangled. Our bodies pressed together. I can
