Zendaya's POV
The air still crackled with a residual charge, a phantom echo of Damien's unleashed fury. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage, its rhythm a chaotic drum against the silence falling over the office.
My knees felt like water, barely supporting me as I leaned against the imposing desk, the smooth, cold wood doing little to ground me. My breath hitched, a series of shallow, desperate gasps.
He had almost fully shifted, but what shook me was that he was half wolf, half human—right there, in front of me, in front of everyone.
The image was seared into my mind: his eyes, those molten gold pools, pupils elongated into slitted slits of predatory intent. The way his lips had peeled back, revealing glimpses of elongated, sharpened canines. The subtle ripple of fur pushed through his skin. It was terrifying, utterly primal, and undeniably… him.
