Aria's POV
He stood there like an avenging angel, chest heaving, grey eyes practically glowing with rage.
His white shirt was slightly rumpled, and I could see a white bandage wrapped around his head.
Oh God. He'd come straight from the hospital.
Then I watched as Damian approach Connor and seize his throat with one hand.
The wolf dangled from Damian's grip like a rag doll, his feet kicking uselessly in the air.
I'd never seen anything like it—the sheer, effortless strength it took to hold a grown man up by his throat with one hand.
But it was Damian's face that made my blood run cold.
He looked... calm. Eerily, terrifyingly calm. Like he was discussing the weather instead of choking the life out of someone.
"Which hand?" His voice was soft. Conversational. "Wh
