~Damon~

Some months passed, and I still wake every morning with the same memory seared into my chest. I remember the warmth of her body draining in my arms, the way her blood covered my hands, staining them so deep I thought I would never feel clean again.

I remember how her lips parted like she wanted to say my name one last time, but no sound came out, only blood, and the silence was louder than any scream I have ever heard.

I remember pressing my forehead against hers, begging her to stay, commanding her to live, and realizing that even all my strength, all my rage, all my...