After breakfast, I finally found a small opening to slip away from Damon's watchful eyes.
It was not easy. He had been hovering like a shadow, asking if I was tired, if I needed water, if I should sit, if I should lie down, if I should breathe slower. As much as I appreciated his concern, it was starting to feel like I could not even blink without him noticing.
Luckily for me, a messenger arrived, whispering urgently about preparations, strategies, and movements near the borders. Damon frowned, kissed my forehead, and told me to stay put. I nodded obediently, even though I already knew I would not.
The moment he turned away, I slipped out.
The morning air felt fresh against my skin, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine. I inhaled deeply, letting the calm seep into my lungs. My hand moved instinctively to my stomach, resting there gently as my thoughts drifted back to Damon.
