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Damian stands so abruptly his chair scrapes backward.

“Belinda Ramos.”

“Oh, Goddess.”

“No. Look at me.”

I do. His eyes are blazing.

“You are everything good in this fucking world, Sweet.”

My breath catches.

“You're beautiful. You're funny. You're infuriating. You're generous when people haven't given you a goddamn reason to be. You walked into a haunted wreck everyone else would've bulldozed and saw a future in it.”

His voice roughens.

“You built something here.”

Golden-red magic sparks between us.

“Something real. You built a fucking life.”

“Damian—”

“Not to mention, you are probably the most powerful Witch I have ever met.”

“What? No⁠—”

“And,” he interrupts, “I'm crazy about you.”

I stop.

“Completely ass over teakettle, fucking crazy about you, Sweet.”

His mouth twists.

“I tried to get rid of you because I wanted you too much.”

That should not make my knees weak. It does.

“I knew what was happening to me. I knew what I could become. And then you showed up smelling like cinnamon and honey, throwing magic you didn't even know you had all over my fucking garden.”

A laugh catches in my throat.

“I didn't want to hurt you.”

“You didn't.”

“No.”

My heart stutters.

“And what about now?”

He goes still.

“Will you hurt me now?” I persist.