The house smelled like slow-cooked meat and polished wood. Warm lights glowed softly across the dining room, making everything feel familiar. Safe. That should have been the case. But nothing about tonight felt safe.
She stood at the base of the stairs, hands curled against the smooth fabric of her dress. She could hear her father laughing in the other room, his voice full and easy. Guests were gathered around the dining table, silverware clinking lightly against plates. And then she heard the other voice.
His.
Damon.
Her stomach clenched, a rush of heat rolling down her spine before she could stop it. It didn’t matter that there were people around. It didn’t matter that this was her father’s house. She could already feel him before she saw him.
She walked slowly toward the dining roo
