Damon POV:
She stilled.
That stubborn fire in her eyes flickered. Her wolf was clawing at the inside of her skin just as hard as mine. I could see it—feel it. Her lips were parted. Her cheeks flushed.
I buried my face in her neck, trembling.
"Your scent," I muttered brokenly. "It calms the storm. Just… fuck, Elena, I can't hold this back much longer."
Her hands pressed against my chest, hard. "You still reek of those dumb bitches."
There it was.
Her fury.
Sharp. Wild. Unforgiving.
I pulled back enough to see her face. Her eyes were gleaming gold now, her wolf at the surface. She was pissed, and she had every right to be.
"I saw you," she whispered. Her voice was a blade.
I froze.
"I saw you with those witches."
I didn't respond.
"I saw one of them touching you."
I said nothing. What could I say? She had seen it. Seen me on my knees—broken, desperate, letting three witches touch me, stroke me, crawl onto me like parasites.
