Damian's POV
I pulled back just enough to look at him. Really look at him. The bruises. The cuts. The way he held himself too carefully, like every breath hurt.
"You're not okay," I whispered, my voice cracking. "You're hurt. You're—"
"Healing." He cupped my face with both hands, thumbs brushing away the tears still streaming down my cheeks. "I'm healing, Aria. I promise. Wolves heal fast, remember?"
"You could have died."
"But I didn't."
"You *could have*." My hands came up to grip his wrists, holding him to me like he might disappear if I let go.
"If you hadn't washed up where you did. If those rogues had found you earlier. If—"
"Aria." He leaned forward, ignoring the wince of pain the movement caused, and pressed his forehead to mine.
His breath was warm aga
