“No,” I say evenly. “Keeping people alive does.”
“Funny. I don’t recall asking you to keep me alive.”
My wolf pushes hard, demanding dominance. I keep my voice calm, even, laced with steel. My gaze hardens. “You wouldn’t be here to argue if Cassidy hadn’t.”
The room stills. Cassidy’s gaze bounces between us, tension sparking like live wires. For a second, I think Sadie will dig in out of sheer spite. Then, slowly, she rises, every line of her body radiating challenge.
“Better?” she asks, voice smooth but edged with steel.
“Safer,” I correct. I take a step closer, close enough to feel the heat rolling off her. “And until this threat is neutralized, I expect you to follow my lead.”
Her lips curve in a mocking smile. “You expect a lot.”
"That's because I usually get it.”
Her laugh is sharp, daring, and genuine. “We’ll see about that.”
My wolf rumbles low, a warning that coils through my chest. The sound isn’t about protection. It's about possession, raw and dangerous. Every instinct tells me Sadie Marlow isn’t just under my watch. She’s a storm I can’t hold back, and if I falter for even a breath, she’ll consume me.
CHAPTER 3
SADIE
The low rumble of his growl still vibrates through me, coiling in my chest and sinking lower until my whole body feels unsteady. It wasn’t just sound, it was command, a primitive warning that set every nerve on edge and left me flushed, restless, aware of him in a way that unsettles me more than the danger outside these walls.
Cassidy hovers near the door, clearly torn between refereeing and running for cover. I press my palms into my thighs because the moment he walked in, the world tilted on its axis and I can't seem to get it back under control.
My stomach spins like I’ve been on a carnival ride for too long. His presence presses into the room, dense and commanding, and every nerve ending feels raw. My head buzzes with a high-pitched whine that won't quit, circling endlessly around my head. I swallow hard and push myself straighter.
“You’re enjoying this way too much,” I mutter, shooting Gage a look as cutting as I can manage. “You're not going to get very far with me by thinking you can order me around like I’m some kind of rookie recruit for Team W.”
His gaze tracks over me, assessing, deliberate. “You’re alive, aren’t you? That’s what matters.”
Gage’s hand tightens on the back of the nearest chair, knuckles blanching before he forces his grip to ease. The slip is quick, controlled almost as soon as it shows, but I catch it.
“Oh, so I should be grateful?” My laugh comes out brittle. “Forgive me if gratitude isn’t at the top of my mood board right now.”
Cassidy clears her throat. “Sadie...”
I cut her off with a raised hand. “Don’t. You’ve already said your piece.”
Gage’s eyes narrow, green cutting into me. “Your sister did what she thought best..."
“For her? Maybe. For me? Jury’s still out.”
“You think this is a game?” he growls, producing an involuntary shiver from me in response.
“I think,” I say slowly, carefully, “that you’re used to people falling in line when you bark orders. That may work on your team, Ranger, but not with me. I’m not yours to command.”
A quick change crosses his expression, a brief fracture in that disciplined mask. For a heartbeat I brace for him to advance, to press until I shatter, but instead he eases back, folding his arms over his chest. The posture should read casual, almost relaxed, yet on him it radiates control, a silent threat wrapped in restraint.
“Then maybe you’d like to explain,” he says, voice calm, “how you plan to survive the people who’ve already tried twice to kill you.” The calm is clipped too sharply, his tone cut short in a way that betrays strain. For a breath his jaw flexes hard enough that I see the muscle jump before he schools it back into stillness. “You know the old saying, third time's a charm. Because I have to tell you from where I’m standing, your plan starts with you being stubborn and ends with you being dead.”
It feels like a slap in the face. I bristle, anger twisting through me, but beneath the heat is a sudden stab of fear. He’s notwrong, and I hate him for it. My hands ball into fists at my sides, knuckles tightening until they ache.
“Maybe stubborn is what’s keeping me standing,” I retort. “Not your protection. Not your rules. Me.”
His eyes gleam, wolf-bright for a heartbeat, and my pulse jumps. He doesn’t move, but I feel him closing in all the same.
