The shift was subtle, but Damon saw it clearly, watched it unfold across her face like a crack forming in polished glass.
His words had landed exactly where he wanted them to, with a precision that was close to perfect, not with force, not with accusation, but with that careful mix of warmth and doubt that made people question themselves more effectively than confrontation ever could.
Damon had carved this experience from years of dealing with smart people, both werewolves and humans in the city where competition was at a very high side.
He could almost see the battle happening behind Daisy's eyes, pride fighting against fear, control slipping just enough to expose the insecurity she worked so hard to bury.
"Okay," she exhaled finally, the word leaving her like it cost something. She stepped closer, closing the space between them until the air felt charged and intimate.
