200
~Rowan's POV
Uncle Fridolf's words hung in the air like smoke. Damon stood rigid, his hands clenched at his sides, his breath rough.
Damon finally spoke, his voice raw. "You think this is about me refusing to admit something? No, uncle. This is not about me lying to myself. This is about Belinda. She is not the person we once knew. My wolf feels it. Every time she comes near, I feel sick. Every time she tries to touch me, I want to tear her hand away. And why? Because she is false. She is poison now. My wolf knows it."
Uncle Fridolf tilted his head, his face calm, his eyes sharp. "Your wolf feels disgust?"
"Yes," Damon said quickly. "A deep disgust. She presses herself close, pretending, smiling, whispering, but it is empty. It is all a game to her. And when she does it, my wolf rises in fury. I can feel it in my skin. She disgusts me."
