–Logan–
For the first time in my life, I felt an unfamiliar, vicious twist in my chest—jealousy. The way she automatically smiled up at Francis, like a starstruck fangirl. I hated it. I have always been possessive. It's in my blood, carved by years of hunting, claiming, surviving. But this—this hurt in a way bullets never could. Especially when she pushed me away.
I understood. It was almost a forced marriage.
Yes. I forced it.
I wanted her. I was stupid. Reckless. But I'm not ready to let her go. Maybe one day—when I finally accept that my feelings were wrong and that she still hates me—maybe then I'll loosen my grip.
I watched her sit far from me.
So I followed.
I slid in beside her, quietly, like an assassin closing in. My fingers slipped into hers, natural, familiar. My gaze dropped to the rings I had forced her to wear. It wasn't about ownership—at least, not entirely. They just looked beautiful on her. Like they belonged there.
