Because Wren Harper doesnotscare easy.
She masks it fast.“Sorry.Didn’t hear you.”
“Bullshit.”
Her throat works.“Kael—”
“What happened?”
She stiffens.“Nothing.”
Lie.
I take a step closer.She takes one back.
My jaw locks.“Talk.”
“Nothing happened,” she insists again.“I’m just tired.”
“Another lie.”
Her eyes flash in irritation.“You don’t know—”
“I know when someone on my team is off.”
Her expression shutters.“I’m not on your team.”
The words hit harder than they should.
“You work with us,” I say.“You walk our halls.You step onto our ice.That makes you mine.”
Her breath catches—sharp, soft, instant.
Shit.
I didn’t mean to say it like that.
I didn’t mean to say it at all.
She looks away, cheeks flushed.“Kael, I don’t need protecting.”
“I think you do.”
Silence.
Not comfortable.
Not charged.
Frightened.
Her fingers curl around the edge of the counter, knuckles white.
I step in front of her, close enough to feel her breath.“Someone did something.”
“No one did anything.”
Her voice shakes, even though she’s trying to hide it.
