The lounge suddenly felt smaller.
Damian leaned back slightly in his chair, trying to process what Kendrick had just said.
A hunt.
The word echoed in his mind, heavy and impossible to ignore.
Across the table, Lena crossed her arms slowly.
"I'm sorry," she said, her tone careful.
"But that sounds dramatic."
Marcus gave her a small, polite smile.
"It does."
He paused briefly.
"But unfortunately, it is also accurate."
Lena glanced at Damian.
The concern in her eyes was no longer subtle.
"So what exactly does Victor Hale think Damian is?" she asked.
Marcus answered without hesitation.
"Rare."
Damian frowned.
"That's vague."
Marcus nodded.
"It's meant to be."
Kendrick finally spoke again.
"Victor smelled your pheromones."
Damian stiffened immediately.
"That's impossible."
"It isn't," Kendrick said calmly.
"You were standing close to him. Close enough."
Damian ran a hand through his hair, frustration building beneath his skin.
"I had a suppressor patch."
