I leaned against the doorway. “Good morning.”
“Don’t,” she snapped.
I held up a hand. “Not here. Not in front of everyone.”
Ember took a sharp breath, then jerked her chin toward the side hallway. I followed.
We stopped near the supply closet, just out of sight. Close enough that if someone yelled, we’d hear it.
She crossed her arms. “Do you have any idea what yesterday did to him?”
“It was protection.”
The words came easy. Too easy.
“Oh, please tell that to someone else,” she said. “You put your cut on him. You didn’t protect him. You made him more noticed.”
I met her stare. “It keeps hands off him.”
“It also tells every person in this place he matters,” she shot back. “You don’t do that halfway, Lock.”
“It was necessary.”
Her jaw tightened. “Necessary would’ve been guards. Distance. Instead you marked him.”
“That cut tells my men not to touch him.”
“And it tells everyone else he’s yours,” she said flatly. “You think Cassie didn’t notice? You think the omegas didn’t clock it?”
I said nothing.
“That’s why they’re circling,” Ember continued. “Not because he’s weak. Because you made him important.”
“He’s leverage,” I said.
She laughed once, sharp. “Bullshit.”
My eyes narrowed. “Careful.”
“No,” she said, steady. “You be careful. I’m the one walking him through that room while people decide what he is to you.”
I exhaled slowly. “I’ll handle Cassie.”
“You’d better,” she said. “Because Rowan is going to come.”
“I know.”
“And when he does,” she said, stepping closer, “he won’t care what story you’re telling yourself. He’ll see his kid wearing another man’s colors and he’ll react.”
She wasn’t wrong.
“I know.”
Ember’s expression shifted. Not softer. Sharper.
“Then why are you letting this get messy?”
“Because it already is,” I said. “And pretending otherwise gets him hurt.”
