“Easy,” he murmured and lowered my arm.
The garden looked like it had weathered a hurricane—or in this case, a royal temper tantrum. The rose trellises were torched, one of the stone lanterns lay toppled in the grass, and there were fresh scorch marks marring the mosaic path. The sunlight didn’t soften the wreckage; if anything, it made the aftermath look far worse, highlighting the broken petals and cracked marble.
Damien stood beside me with his arms crossed as he surveyed the damage with a frown that deepened by the second.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” I asked, realizing he’d shown up in my backyard out of the blue.
“I got word that Thorne was paying the Ryders a visit. I knew he couldn’t be up to any good, so I came to see for myself.” He ushered me toward the only bench still standing after the fight. Now he crouched in front of me, his eyes narrowing as they scanned my face. His fingers ghosted over the side of my jaw where I knew a bruise was forming. “He got too close,” Damien said, his voice pitched low. “Too close to you.”
“He’s always too close.”
Damien didn’t smile. His touch was gentle but sure as he reached into his coat and pulled out a small cloth bundle. He unfolded it to reveal a tiny flask and a strip of clean linen. “This might sting.”
I raised a brow. “Is that your version of a bedside manner?”
“Would you prefer silence?”
I didn’t answer, just tilted my face as he dabbed the cut on my temple. The liquid stung like a motherfucker and I winced, grabbing the edge of the bench.
“Thought you said you’ve had worse,” he murmured.
“I have,” I bit out. “Doesn’t mean I enjoy it.”
He pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes. “You shouldn’t have to deal with this at all.”
I blinked at him. “Damien, you know who I am. You know what I do. Hell, you know what I’ve done. This—” I gestured vaguely to the wrecked garden and my busted lip “—comes with the territory.”
“You’re not in a warzone anymore, Cat.”
My breath caught.
“And you’re not a soldier.”
“No,” I said slowly. “But sometimes it feels like I’m still in enemy territory.”
He didn’t argue. Just resumed cleaning the cut. When his thumb brushed my cheekbone, the contact sent a ripple of warmth through me. Not lust. Not adrenaline. Something quieter. Deeper.
He looked up from beneath his lashes. “You terrify me, you know.”
I blinked. “Me?”
“You charge into fights. You mouth off to dragon princes. You take on more than anyone I know and pretend you’re fine. But one day...”
“Damien.”
“I’m serious.” He wrapped the cloth around my knuckles, binding them with care. “One day you’re going to get hurt and I won’t be there to stop it.”
“You were here today.”
“Barely.”
“It was enough.”
The tension between us stretched and hummed. He held my hand a beat too long before finally letting go.
That was when Jacob’s voice rang out.
“Arya?”
