His expression hardens. “Tessa?—”
“No.” I shake my head. “I just fought to rebuild this place. I’m not running because your world suddenly got bigger and more dangerous.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It is to me.”
I step closer.
“You don’t get to decide what I do with my life,” I say firmly. “Not now. Not ever.”
Something shifts in his eyes. Not anger. Something deeper. Respect. Frustration. Maybe a little fear.
“Then we do this my way,” he says.
I cross my arms. “Which is?”
“I keep you safe.”
I hold his gaze.
“Try,” I say.
I think I actually see him smile. I sit down because my legs decide for me. One second I’m standing, bracing myself for anything else Archer is about to tell me?—
The next, I’m in the chair by the front window, gripping the armrests like the floor might tilt out from under me.
Shifters. The word echoes in my head like it doesn’t belong there. Like it’s too big, too strange, too impossible to fit inside the reality I thought I understood.
And yet?—
Nothing about tonight felt impossible. It felt real. Terrifyingly real. I look up at him.
“Tessa?”
I realize I’m sitting there with my mouth hanging open, eyes slightly unfocused. I must look like I should be in a padded room.
“Ummm… it took a minute, but I think the crazy has caught up to me,” I giggle like a lunatic. “You’re really serious,” I say again, quieter this time.
“I wouldn’t joke about this,” Archer replies.
No. He wouldn’t. That’s part of the problem.
I let out a shaky breath and push my hands through my hair. “Okay. Okay, let’s just… let’s start somewhere that makes sense.”
He nods slightly, giving me space. I appreciate that more than I expect.
“Define ‘shifters,’” I say, because if I don’t keep this practical, I might completely lose it.
“People who can shift into animal forms,” he says simply.
I stare at him.
“Right. Of course. Why wouldn’t that be a thing?”
He doesn’t react to the sarcasm.
“Most of us are born into it,” he continues. “Some inherit it. Some… don’t survive it.”
