“You don’t get to control me,” I say.
There it is.
The line drawn between us.
Ethan steps closer, because of course he does, and the air tightens again, charged and heavy.
“You’re still standing here,” he says quietly.
“That doesn’t mean?—”
“It means you made a choice.”
My breath catches.
“And you don’t get to twist that into something it’s not.”
“I’m not twisting anything.”
“Then what are you doing?”
His gaze drops slowly to my mouth, then lifts again. “Protecting what’s mine.”
The words hit like a spark, sharp and dangerous, and the room shifts around us.
Behind him, I feel it in the others, the way they react, the way they understand exactly what he just said.
Hudson lets out a low whistle. “Well, there it is.”
“Took you long enough,” Flint adds.
“Knew it,” Ethan mutters.
Heat floods my chest, a mix of anger and something else I do not want to name.
“I’m not yours,” I say.
Ethan does not flinch. “Not yet.” A beat passes. “But you’re mine to protect.”
My breath stutters, the weight of it settling between us, something deeper than just duty, something darker, something that feels like it could consume everything if I let it.
“Focus,” Flint says finally, breaking the tension.
Ethan’s gaze lingers on mine for a second longer before he steps back, the space between us opening but not easing anything.
“Perimeter,” Ethan says.
The men move immediately, slipping back into motion like they never stopped.
Hudson pauses on his way out, glancing at me with a smirk. “You’re trouble.”
“I’ve heard.”
He grins. “You’re going to fit right in.”
Then he is gone, the others following, disappearing back into the dark like they were never there.
Leaving just me and Ethan.
