Page 46 of The Last Morgan

Byron’s head lifted slightly, sensing it too. His whole body tensed.

Lucy adjusted her sweater and opened the door.

And there he was. Damian. He stood tall and proud, around six foot two, with warm caramel-toned skin and soft brown eyes that crinkled when he smiled. Short, neat dark curls framed a face that was... perfect.

He wore a black fitted polo, tactical pants, and boots — clean, crisp and very professional.

But what really hit Lucy was the energy around him. It was calming and not the smoldering, dangerous undercurrent she felt from Byron.

Damian smiled, extending a hand.

"Miss Morgan," he said, voice smooth like velvet. "It’s an honor."

Lucy blinked at him for a second too long before reaching out to shake his hand.

His touch was firm but gentle — reassuring without being possessive.

So different from Byron. Byron hadn’t moved from his spot across the room. But Lucy felt him. His gaze burning a hole straight through Damian.

"Call me Lucy," she said, finding her voice. "Welcome to the madness."

Damian’s smile widened slightly.

"Thank you. I’ve been briefed by Corey. Full protection detail, twenty-four seven."

His brown eyes flicked behind her to Byron — not challenging, just aware.

Byron finally pushed off the wall, the two men stared at each other.

No words.

Just a silent measuring.

Where Byron was rough edged and coiled threat, Damian was smooth power and patience.

Complete opposites.

Two wolves from different worlds.

And Lucy?

Lucy stood between them, feeling like she was about to be torn in half.

Corey arrived a second later, clapping a hand onto Damian’s shoulder.

"Now you’ve met Lucy come, I’ll show you your room and the security setup."

Damian nodded politely to Lucy and followed Corey down the hall.

Byron didn’t move.

He stayed rooted to the spot, Lucy stepped closer, lowering her voice. “Are you always this welcoming?" she teased, trying to cut the tension.

Byron finally looked at her.

And what she saw there made her shiver.

Frustration.