Chapter Six: The First Glance
"Uncle Damon?"
The name left Athena's lips before she even realized she'd spoken.
Damon DeVille turned slowly at the sound of her voice. The movement was unhurried, deliberate — the kind of calm that only came from a man used to being in control of everything around him.
When his eyes met hers, the world seemed to hold its breath.
"Athena…" The way he said her name — low, deep, and smooth — sent a shiver down her spine. It rolled off his tongue like silk, heavy with memory and something unspoken.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Damon's gaze swept over her, lingering in places longer than it should have. There was nothing innocent about the way he looked at her — curious, conflicted, and almost possessive. His scent — dark cedar and spice — drifted between them, wrapping around her like a spell she couldn't break.
Athena's heartbeat quickened. She didn't understand why. It was just her uncle… wasn't it?
The tension between them stretched thin, like a wire ready to snap.
Then — ding.
Her phone lit up in her hand, the sound startling them both back to reality. Athena blinked, tearing her gaze away. A message flashed on the screen:
Your ride is here.
"Oh, I… I have to go," she murmured quickly, clutching her shopping bags.
Damon said nothing, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly.
"Goodbye, Uncle," Athena added, forcing a small, polite smile before turning and walking briskly toward the exit. She didn't dare look back — she couldn't.
Only when she was safely inside the cab did she finally let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. As the car began to move, she pressed her forehead lightly against the window, the city lights blurring outside.
What is he doing here? she thought, her mind racing. He was supposed to be abroad. He left eight months ago…
The thought sent a strange ache through her chest. She had told herself that what she once felt for him was long gone — buried, forgotten. But now, with just one look, everything she'd buried came rushing back, fierce and confusing.
By the time she got back to her dorm, her hands were trembling. She dropped her bags carelessly, lay flat on her bed, and stared at the ceiling. Every moment replayed in her mind — his eyes, his voice, the quiet heat that had filled the air between them.
"No," she whispered to herself, pressing a pillow against her face. "I can't feel this again."
But her heart didn't listen.
Eventually, exhaustion dragged her into sleep — a restless, heavy kind of sleep filled with echoes of amber eyes and a voice that haunted her dreams.
---
Across the city, Damon DeVille stood motionless beside his car, watching the cab disappear into the traffic.
For the first time in years, he felt something sharp twist inside him — shock, disbelief, something dangerously close to longing. His lips parted slightly, as if to call her name again, but he stopped himself.
"Damon."
He turned as his longtime friend, Ace, approached with his usual careless grin. Damon's expression hardened instantly, the cold mask snapping back into place.
"Let's go," he said simply, his voice steady — almost too steady.
But as he slid into the car, Ace noticed the slightest tremor in his hand — a flicker of emotion breaking through the perfect calm.
If anyone had been watching closely, they might have seen it too.
The great Damon DeVille — untouched, unshaken, unfeeling — with fingers that quivered ever so slightly at the memory of a girl who had no idea what kind of storm she had just awakened.