Damien looked at him with possessive anger in his eyes.

His sword was covered with blood, not mine, not Leona, but someone else's. It was one of the Silverclaw guards, perhaps. A casualty of his infatuation.

He stood in the opening of the tunnel, his bulk silhouetting me and Leon and my weak little mother, who was only barely conscious.

I do not want this fight, Leon said calmly and deadly.

Damien gave a cold laugh. I have had no desire but this fight since I turned her down. Each night the bond maws at me. All that he breathes is torture without her. She belonged to me and I...