OUR BOND

Shadows At The Table

Damien's POV

Right after Noel went limb, Cyrus was there.

For a moment the fight seemed to drain out of the room. My men stared, but I didn't have the patience for hesitation.

"Clear it" my order cut sharp.

"Every body, every casing, every trace. Find the owner of this building and repay them - generously. Make sure nothing paints back here"

They moved, as always.

I went to Cyrus. He was clutching her like he could keep her from slipping further away. "Enough" I said, and tore her from his arms. He resisted for a beat but then gave away.

Raffaele's eyes flickered to the blood soaking through my sleeve. "You're hit, let me carry her"

"No it's fine" I said my voice flat, final.

I walked. My men fell in behind me, some staying to manage the scene, others peeling off into the convoy, Raffaele and Adrian being among those who stayed. By the time I reached the car, my hand was burning, but I ignored it. She was light in my arms. Too light.

In the back seat I laid her across my lap, head resting against my chest. The road blurred beneath us, headlights slashing across the interior. I kept my eyes on her.

Why was she here? And what the heck did I just witness?

No answers came.

By the time we reached the mansion, it was close to ten in the evening. I didn't even realize how much time had passed.

The living room light glowed warm against the night. Mom was curled up with her show, Dad at her side. They both rose the second they saw us- me carrying Noel, my arm bleeding, the others trailing in behind me worse for wear.

Mom's hand flew to her mouth "Dio mio -"

Dad's voice cut sharper "What happened to Noel?"

"She'll live" I said evenly "The rest- we'll speak when she's settled"

"Damien-"

"Where's Stefan?"

"In his room" Vittoria answered quickly. Luca didn't wait for more, he bolted upstairs.

I sat Noel on the couch, Dad moved closer, jaw tight. He wanted answers. He deserved them. So I gave him the truth - about the ambush, the fight, the building, her sudden appereance in the crossfire. Every word clean, stripped of speculation.

Stefan arrived as I finished, dragging his equipment eyes immediately sharp on Noel. He pushed me aside without ceremony and bent to examine her. I stepped back, flexing my wounded hand. Blood stuck tacky between my fingers.

"She's fine" Stefan announced at last. Relief spread through the room like a tide. "Exhaustion. Stress of the mind but she'll wake up soon"

Mom sank back into her chair, whispering thanks. Dad exhaled but his eyes stayed on me, searching.

Stefan's gaze dropped to my hand "That, however isn't fine. Sit down"

I did. Not because he asked, but because efficiency demanded it. I needed both hands in working order. He worked quickly, I endured it in silence.

The others sat, waiting for Noel to stir.

Cyrus collapsed into an armchair like he'd finally burned through every ounce of fight. His eyes stayed on her.

"How do you know her?" Luca asked, breaking the silence. And the question hit it's mark. Everyone turned to Cyrus.

He leaned back into the armchair, shoulders slumping with the weight of exhaustion. For a long moment I thought he'd refuse. But then his eyes shifted, not to us but to Noel.