“I didn’t bring her into anything,” he says. “She stepped into it herself when she chose you.”
My hands curl slightly.
“I warned you,” I say.
“I know,” he replies. “That’s what makes it interesting.”
A pause. Then he takes one step back. Not retreating. Repositioning.
“I’m not here to fight you today,” he says.
“Of course you’re not,” I mutter.
His smile returns faintly.
“But I am here to tell you something,” he continues.
I don’t like his tone. Not at all.
“Say it,” I reply.
Damon’s gaze sharpens.
“This town doesn’t survive isolation,” he says. “It never has. You’re just the first one arrogant enough to think it will.”
My jaw tightens.
“That’s not what this is.”
“It always is,” he replies.
A beat. Then softer?—
“And your mate?”
My tiger roars.
“Stop talking about her,” I warn.
Damon ignores it.
“That bond makes you predictable,” he says. “And predictable leaders lose wars.”
My vision narrows. He’s testing. Always testing.
“You think you understand it?” I ask.
“I understand leverage,” he replies simply.
That word hits wrong. Cold. Intentional.
“And that’s all she is to you?” I ask.
Damon pauses. Then smiles faintly again.
“No,” he says. “She’s a pressure point.”
Something in me snaps—not fully, but enough that the air around me feels tighter. The patrol behind me shifts again. Ready. Waiting for my signal. Damon notices. Of course he does.
