“And if he finds me first?”
Something shifts in his expression, something dangerous and controlled.
“He won’t,” he says.
“You don’t know that.”
His hand lifts slowly, stopping just short of my face, close enough that I feel the heat of it without contact.
“I do,” he says quietly.
My pulse pounds. “Why?”
His gaze drops briefly to my mouth, then lifts again.
“Because now,” he murmurs, “you’re not alone.”
And for the first time since this started, that thought doesn’t terrify me.
It burns.
Chapter 8
Ethan
She’s loud, loud enough that anyone watching from the tree line would pick her up in seconds. I stop mid-step and lift my hand, but she walks straight into me before she notices, her body colliding with mine, soft and warm and completely unprepared, her breath punching out in a sharp exhale as her hands come up to brace against my chest.
“Jesus,” she snaps, looking up at me with irritation already sparking in her eyes. “You could warn me.”
“You could pay attention.”
Her gaze flashes, her chin tipping up as she pushes off me, creating space that doesn’t quite stick. “I am paying attention.”
“No,” I say, turning fully toward her and holding her there with my gaze. “You’re reacting. That’s different.”
Her arms cross immediately, defensive and stubborn. “And what, you’re just naturally silent like some kind of mountain ninja?”
I step closer, closing the distance just enough that she has to tilt her head back again to keep eye contact, and I let the moment sit before I answer. “Watch.”
I move again, slower this time, deliberate in a way that forces her to focus. Each step is intentional, heel to toe, my weightshifting carefully so nothing snaps, nothing shifts, nothing gives me away. The forest stays quiet around me, untouched.
I glance back at her. “Your turn.”
She exhales, clearly annoyed, but steps forward anyway, trying to mirror what I just did. Her first step lands, and the instant her boot hits the ground a branch snaps beneath it, the sound sharp in the stillness.
I don’t say anything. I just watch.
She freezes, her eyes flicking up to mine.
“Don’t,” I say quietly.
“Don’t what?” she asks, already bracing.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re waiting for approval.”
