I watched them, my gaze lingering on Mira—her strength, her defiance, the way her lips pressed together in determination. Something dark and possessive coiled in my chest. She should be mine.
I didn't care about the consequences. I didn't care about the fallout. I stepped forward, my smile smug, mocking, my voice low and dangerous, cutting through the tension like a knife.
"Hey, Jack..." I drew out, my tone light, taunting, "I've got a proposition for you." I tilted my head, my eyes locked onto him, gleaming with amusement.
"How about you sell your wife to me?" I shrugged, my smile twisting. "I'll take care of her. Food. Safety. Survival." My voice dropped to a whisper, smooth, dangerous. "What do you say? Fair trade, don't you think?"
The clearing froze.
Mira's face paled, her hands clenching into fists, her eyes snapping to me, burning with rage. "You bastard—"
