Damon
I thrust the parchment list into Ronan’s hands, fingers still trembling with restraint.
“Get this to the healer,” I snapped. “Now. Tell her what it is—tell her who it came from.”
Ronan looked at me, eyes narrowing. “Your Majes—”
“Go.”
He nodded once and disappeared out of the room without another word, boots echoing down the hallway.
I turned back to the woman standing in the middle of the room like she owned it. Ella didn’t try to run. She just watched me, calm as ice, as if the wreckage she’d caused was someone else’s mess.
I took a step toward her, slow and deliberate. My jaw ached from how tightly I clenched it. Rage coiled beneath my skin like a second heartbeat.
I dragged a hand through my hair, trying to exhale, trying not to shift and let Zane take control. Not yet.
