Page 49 of Damian
65
Morgan
The cabin shifted back into motion after that kiss, but something fundamental had changed. The air still carried the weight of danger, but beneath it, there was something steadier—like the ground had finally stopped moving under my feet.
Damian kept me tucked to his side longer than necessary, his thumb brushing slow circles at my waist while he spoke to the team. He didn’t even try to hide it, and that was maybe what unraveled me the most. For weeks, I’d been guarding every look, every word, as if admitting how I felt would somehow make me weaker. He made it clear I didn’t have to hide anymore.
Ruby caught me watching him and arched a brow, a smirk tugging at her lips. When she passed me on her way to the kitchen, she leaned in just enough to whisper, “Finally.”
I swatted her shoulder with the back of my hand, but she just grinned and poured herself some cereal like the world wasn’t on fire outside.
Damian’s arm tightened around me for a heartbeat. “She’s not wrong,” he murmured against my temple.
I tilted my face up to him. “You realize you just kissed me in front of your team.”
His mouth quirked into the barest smile. “They’ll live.”
It should have embarrassed me, should have made me want to shrink into the shadows again. Instead, I felt taller. Stronger. Like something that had been locked up inside me had finally been set free.
The men went about their business—Oliver stacking gear by the door, Cyclone absorbed in his screen again, Gage on comms. They gave us space without making it obvious, which was its own kind of kindness.
Damian leaned close, his voice pitched low for me alone. “Tonight, when the dust settles…” His eyes searched mine, dark and unwavering. “We’ll finish what we started.”
My stomach flipped, heat sparking under my skin. “That sounds dangerously like a promise.”
“It is.”
For a second, the weight of the coming hours lifted. I could almost believe we had more than the moment. Almost.
Ruby came back into the room with her cereal bowl, her gaze flicking between us like she couldn’t help herself. “Just so you know,” she said, spoon poised midair, “if you two think you’re being subtle, you’re not.”
I groaned, covering my face with my hand. Damian only chuckled, the sound low and rough, and pressed a kiss to the crown of my head like he didn’t care who was watching.
And maybe that was the point. We didn’t have to pretend anymore. Not with the team. Not with Ruby. Not with ourselves.
For the first time in a long time, even with danger pressing in from every direction, I felt like I wasn’t just fighting to stay alive.
I was fighting for something worth living for.
66
Morgan
By nightfall, the safehouse felt less like a refuge and more like a launch pad.
Cyclone had taken over the dining table completely, his screens glowing in the dim light, the soft clack of keys filling the silence. Oliver methodically checked weapons and spare magazines, laying them out in neat rows that made the pit of my stomach twist. Gage leaned against the wall, comms pressed to his ear, his voice low as he coordinated with contacts I didn’t know and probably didn’t want to.
Ruby sat near me on the sofa, earbuds dangling around her neck, her knee bouncing. She’d stopped pretending she wasn’t listening hours ago.
Damian stood at the center of it all, a quiet storm in human form. His voice carried low but certain as he worked through the plan with the others. Every word, every gesture, radiated control. Watching him, it hit me again: this wasn’t just his world, it was his battlefield.
Cyclone’s screen flashed, pulling everyone’s attention. He spun the laptop toward Damian, lines of code transforminginto a map studded with coordinates. “Confirmed relay. Warehouse outside the city. Activity picked up in the last two hours. They’re clearing data. If we don’t move tonight, the trail’s gone.”
My pulse stuttered. “You mean… everything I found?”
Cyclone’s mouth pressed flat. “Wiped. Burned. Like it never existed.”
The room seemed to shrink around me. All those nights, all those breadcrumbs, the risk I’d taken—it could vanish in an instant.
