The door remained closed, and Ronan's gaze never left it.
Through the intense meeting with the Vampire Prince, as they discussed war strategies against the rebellion, Ronan's attention kept drifting. His body was present, nodding at appropriate moments, offering suggestions when needed, but his focus remained fixed on that wooden barrier.
What was happening inside? Was she conscious? In pain? Asking for him?
"You won't help her by staring a hole through the door," Damian's smooth voice interrupted his thoughts. "The poor thing's been through enough without you adding property damage to her concerns."
Ronan's jaw tightened. "Focus on the plans, vampire. My attention is my own to direct."
Damian merely raised an elegant eyebrow, his crimson eyes gleaming with amusement. "As you wish, Guardian. Though I wonder—does she even know?"
"Know what?" Ronan growled, finally turning to face the vampire.