Aria felt delightfully boneless. Her legs were shaky, her skin was burning, and her heart felt lighter than it had in two lifetimes. She pulled her black trousers and silk camisole back on, twisting her soaking wet hair up into a messy claw clip. Her face was scrubbed completely bare of makeup, but looking in the locker room mirror, she didn't care.
She was glowing.
Damien looked even more compromised.
His suit jacket was slung casually over his shoulder. His tie was entirely MIA, and the top three buttons of his crisp white dress shirt were left undone, exposing the hard lines of his chest and a faint, unmistakable red mark right on his collarbone that Aria had put there.
"Ready?" Damien asked, his voice still a low, gravelly rasp as he waited by the doors.
"Ready," Aria smiled.
