Chapter 205

The car sped through the night like a blade cutting through darkness. Streetlights flashed past in streaks of gold, one after another, slipping across the window so quickly they blurred into a continuous line. The city outside was still alive, crowds, traffic, neon, but inside the car, everything felt suffocatingly still. Sloane sat rigidly in her seat. Her wrist was still trapped in Damon’s grip. Tight. Too tight. The pressure was enough to leave deep red marks against her skin, the faint sting building into something sharper with every passing second. If he held on any longer, it might actually break the skin. She forced herself to breathe steadily. “Damon… what are you trying to do?” Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a clear edge of tension. Damon turned to look at her. His gaze was dark, too dark. Something heavy and unreadable swirled beneath the surface, something almost sticky, like emotions that had been left to rot and ferment for too long. And yet his expression was calm.