The word sits heavy between us.
I don’t like how it sounds.
I don’t like how calm he is when he says it.
“He’s dangerous,” I say.
“I know.”
“And you’re just going to—what? Hunt him?”
His gaze doesn’t waver.
“Yes.”
The answer is immediate.
Certain.
And it hits me all over again how serious this is.
“This isn’t a game, Ethan.”
“No.”
“You could get hurt.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re not even hesitating.”
“No.”
Frustration flares hot in my chest. “Why not?”
His eyes flick over me, slow and deliberate, and the look on his face?—
It shifts something in me I don’t want to acknowledge.
“Because he came onto my land,” he says quietly. “And he touched what’s mine.”
My breath catches.
“That’s not?—”
“It is.”
The words come out low.
Final.
And for a second, I forget what I was about to argue.
Forget everything except the way he’s looking at me.
Like he’s already decided something I haven’t agreed to.
“You don’t get to claim me like that,” I say, but my voice is thinner than I want it to be.
