Nixon’s POV
"Only you should come in," Isla said, her voice dropping to a sharp whisper as she blocked the doorway.
Christopher moved forward immediately, his massive chest slamming into the edge of the heavy oak door. His jaw bunched. A thick cord of muscle jumped in his neck. "I think not."
I shoved my palm straight into Christopher’s sternum, driving him back a full step. "Remember what you said."
Christopher bared his teeth, the bone clicking loud in the tight space, but he retreated into the shadows of the porch. His yellow eyes stayed glued to the witch’s throat.
I brushed past Isla. The front door banged shut behind me, the lock throwing itself with a heavy, metallic crunch.
The air inside the cabin was thick, hot, and choked with the suffocating stink of burnt rosemary and da
