He would have all the answers eventually. But for now, it was time to focus on what truly mattered.
With that thought anchoring his mind, Damien turned his attention back to Little White.
She stood quietly before him, her crane-like neck held high, an air of calm nobility surrounding her like a veil of mist. Compared to her, Damien was a full head taller. Naturally, when he glanced downward—just for a moment—his gaze landed somewhere it probably shouldn't have.
White. Round. Plump.
A silent beat passed.
The realization hit like a slap. Damien coughed lightly and forced his eyes upward, redirecting his gaze to more appropriate territory.
Only to lock eyes with a pair of icy orbs glaring back at him, sharp enough to slice through steel. There was a flicker of killing intent hidden within those depths, brief but unmistakable—like a coiled serpent that had just been stirred from its slumber.
The corners of Damien's lips twitched. So, she noticed. Well… that was unfortunate.
