The corridor outside Damon's chambers was silent, but inside him, something restless prowled.
Oren did not unsettle him. In fact, he was so pleased.
Oren's breaking voice, the flicker of fear in his eyes, the way hope had cracked under pressure… It should have been enough. It was enough.
And yet—
Damon loosened the collar of his shirt as he stepped into his chambers, the door shutting behind him.
He felt this hunger stirring within him. Just… an itch beneath the surface. A tension that hadn't quite burned out.
His jaw tightened. It had actually been a long time since he had sex. He had been starved for weeks!
And why should he be starved? He should get everything he wanted and needed!
"Send Euphemia to me," he ordered his guards.
The command left his lips smoothly, as if it had been waiting there all along.
And Euphemia, of course, did not keep him waiting. Although she had been angry with him, she began to feel bad when he actually ignored her.
