Isabelle’s POV
The cool night air pressed against my skin as I marched toward Damion. My heart pounded in my chest, the fury bubbling inside me like a volcano ready to erupt. He stood near the gate, swaying slightly, the bottle in his hand hanging limply by his side. His disheveled appearance and glassy eyes screamed of recklessness, and the sight of him brought a mix of anger and… something else I couldn’t name.
“What the hell are you doing here, Damion?” I demanded, my voice low and sharp. The murmurs from the small crowd of onlookers only fueled my frustration. “Are you trying to make a scene?”
His head turned slowly, his eyes locking onto mine. For a moment, I thought he didn’t recognize me, but then a lazy, almost relieved smile spread across his face. “Isabelle,” he slurred, his v
