The question lingers in the air long after it leaves his lips.
“How do I protect you in a way you can accept?”
For a moment, the world feels painfully still. I stare at him, taken off guard, because I never expected Damian Thornton of all people to ask me something like that. He gives orders, he does not request guidance. He shapes reality to fit his control, he does not reshape himself to fit someone else’s needs.
Yet here he is. Waiting. Tense. Unsure.
The hum of security monitors fills the room, rhythmic and low. A distant alarm resets somewhere in the building. Guards move quietly in the background, pretending not to listen, but I can feel their curiosity like a held breath.
Damian stays focused on me.
I shift my weight, feeling the heaviness of the choice in front of me. What do
