Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 35133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
That hits her, and I see it in the way her shoulders shift, the way her gaze sharpens even as her body leans just slightly closer.
“You’re a lot to handle,” she mutters.
“You haven’t handled me yet.”
Her eyes flash. “Maybe I don’t want to.”
I lean in just enough that our breaths mix again. “That’s not what your body says.”
Her inhale is sharp. “Cocky.”
“Honest.”
Silence falls between us again, heavier now, not uncertain, just waiting, waiting for her to push me away.
She doesn’t.
Instead, her hand lifts, slower this time, deliberate, her fingers brushing my wrist before settling lightly against my hand where it still holds her chin. She doesn’t stop me and she doesn’t pull away, she just stays there.
“You always this sure of yourself?” she asks.
“Only when I’m right.”
“And you think you are now?”
I hold her gaze. “Yeah.”
Her lips part again, her pulse jumping under my eyes, and for a second I think she’s going to close the distance herself. I almost let her.
Then something shifts outside, a faint sound most people wouldn’t notice, but I do, and everything in me stills.
Her hand tightens slightly. “What?”
“Stay here,” I say, stepping back at last.
The loss of contact is immediate and sharp, and we both feel it.
“I am here,” she says, her voice edged again, but there’s something underneath it now, something reluctant.
“Stay,” I repeat.
“I’m not—”
“Maddie.”
She exhales sharply. “You don’t get to just—”
“I do when it’s him.”
That stops her, because she knows I’m right and because she felt it too. This isn’t over, not even close.
Chapter 13
Maddie
Idon’t realize how badly I miscalculated until I see his face.
Ethan isn’t loud when he’s angry.
He doesn’t yell. He doesn’t snap.
He goes still.
And that?
That’s worse.
We’re halfway back to the cabin when it happens—when something in him shifts so sharply it feels like the air drops ten degrees.
“What?” I ask, breath still uneven from trying to keep up with him.
He doesn’t answer.
Doesn’t even look at me.
He just stops.
Drops low.
And studies the ground like the forest just told him something it wasn’t supposed to.
“Ethan,” I push, stepping closer. “What is it?”
His hand comes out without looking, catching my wrist, holding me in place.
Not rough.
But not gentle either.
“Don’t move.”
My pulse spikes. “Why?”
“Because he was here.”
The words land like a strike.
I freeze instantly.
“Where?” I whisper.
His grip tightens just slightly as he angles his body in front of mine, putting himself between me and whatever he’s seeing.
“Close,” he says.
“How close?”
He doesn’t answer right away.
That’s my first real warning.
Because Ethan always answers.
“Ethan.”
His head lifts slowly, gaze scanning the tree line, sharp and calculating, and when he finally looks at me—
There’s nothing soft left in his expression.
Nothing controlled in the way I’ve seen it before.
This is something else.
Something colder.
“Close enough to follow you,” he says.
My stomach drops.
“He tracked me out here?”
“Yeah.”
I swallow hard, my throat tight. “Then we need to—”
“We’re done reacting.”
The words cut me off.
Clean.
Final.
I blink at him. “What?”
“We’re done letting him set the pace.”
There’s something in his voice now I haven’t heard before.
Not just control.
Not just confidence.
Something darker.
Something that makes my pulse spike for an entirely different reason.
“You’re scaring me,” I say before I can stop myself.
“Good.”
That shouldn’t make my breath hitch.
It does.
“Why is that good?” I ask, quieter now.
“Because it means you’ll listen.”
I stare at him.
Because this isn’t the same Ethan from earlier.
This isn’t the man who watched me like a problem he wanted to solve.
This is something else entirely.
“You said I wasn’t prey,” I say.
His gaze locks onto mine.
“You’re not.”
“Then stop treating me like I am.”
“I’m not.”
“You literally just told me not to move.”
“And you didn’t.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“It means you trust me,” he cuts in.
The words land before I can stop them.
Because he’s right.
Because I did.
Because I didn’t even think about it.
My jaw tightens. “That doesn’t mean I’m okay with you turning into… whatever this is.”
His mouth curves slightly.
Not amused.
Not soft.
Sharp.
“You haven’t seen anything yet.”
A shiver runs down my spine.
Not entirely fear.
Not entirely anything I want to name.
“Then maybe you should explain it to me,” I say, lifting my chin. “Because right now, it feels like you’re about to do something reckless.”
“Not reckless.”
“Then what?”
“Effective.”
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.