C97 WHISPERING BEHIND THE DOOR

Elara’s shriek tore from her throat as she jolted upright, grabbing the front of Damon’s shirt so fiercely her knuckles whitened. Her breath came in quick, ragged pulls—soft but desperate—like she couldn't pull enough air into her lungs.

Damon’s grip tightened around her waist.

“Elara. Elara—look at me. Focus on me,” he commanded, voice rough with panic he was trying—and failing—to hide