Damon looked at his tea.
Damian was right. He usually was about things like that.
"What's going on," Eve said.
He looked at the grounds.
At the dark treeline and the quiet estate.
"Do you know what I was before all of this," he said.
She looked at him.
"Before you came," he said. "Before the petition and the claim and Malachai and everything." He paused. "Do you know what I did? Who I was?"
"Tell me," she said.
"I trained," he said. "Pack security. Border patrols. I handled the physical protection of the estate and the pack members and everything that required someone to be fast and strong and willing to put themselves between trouble and the people they loved." He paused. "I was good at it. That was my thing. That was who Damon was." He looked at his cup. "The one who handled the physical stuff. The one who moved fast. The warm one who made rooms feel safer."
"You still are those things," she said.
