Skye’s POV
The music pulsed through the grand hall, bass thumping in my chest like a second heartbeat. The scent of cake, champagne, and roses mingled in the air, almost dizzying against the bright lights and laughter swirling around me. Tonight was supposed to be about Eva—her day, her celebration—but here I was, standing in the middle of the dance floor, caught in the kind of drama that could shatter hearts.
The chandeliers sparkled overhead, scattering gold flecks across the polished floor where couples swayed in elegant rhythm. My long silver gown clung to me like a second skin, the slit brushing high against my thigh whenever I moved. I could feel eyes on me—not just any eyes. His eyes. Damian’s.
I should’ve expected it. Ever since we mated, he’d been… more. More possessive. More p
