THEA
“Give it to me.”
He says, palm stretched out in expectation.
I fix my gaze on him in confusion, my fingers tightening around the card Nathan left behind, its sharp corners biting into my skin. I don’t move. My pulse thunders in my ears.
Ezra tilts his head. "Thea."
One word. My name, shaped by his tongue, low and sharp and… possessive.
“Give me the card, will you? You’re mine," he says, voice clipped with that maddening calm of his. "Or do you need me to remind you of that? It's not right if you have another man's card with you."
I huff out a laugh. Not because it's funny. Because it’s absurd.
"I’m not yours," I say, voice shaking from the fury bubbling under my skin. "You don’t get to decide who I talk to or what I keep."
His jaw ticks. His fingers curl slightly, not quite a
