"Like what you're doing right now."
Damien's lips pressed together. His eyes drifted slightly, as if reassessing the air itself. He hadn't noticed it before. Not really.
But now that it had been named, he could feel it.
The echo of that moment in the canyon.
The sound of the beast's roar.
The heat of its blood on his skin.
The taste of something older than fear still clinging to his senses.
"…I see," he said quietly.
Dominic's gaze cooled.
Not the cold of distance—but of sharp, rising agitation coiled beneath steel discipline.
His voice came low, precise. Each syllable carried the weight of command.
"You fought a monster."
It wasn't a question.
Damien didn't respond. He didn't need to.
Dominic's tone tightened.
"You're not even properly Awakened. You haven't formed your core. Your foundation is barely stable. And you thought it wise to test yourself against something designed to kill?"
He rose slightly from his seat, not in a rage—but in a rising tide.
