I did not need to turn around to identify who he was. The faint scent of Cedar filtered into my nose.
"You left the door open," I said.
"I wanted to see how far you would go." His voice was directly above my head, unhurried, almost conversational. "The answer is approximately forty meters past the gate."
I twisted against his grip. He let me turn, which was worse than if he had held me still, because it meant he was not concerned about what I would do once I was facing him.
We stood outside the gate in the dark and he looked down at me with that expression he had, the one that was not quite anything.
"Come back inside."
"Over my dead body."
Something moved in his eyes. "That can be arranged."
"Then arrange it." I stepped back, one step, enough space to breathe. "I am not your pet.
