“I’m leaving.”
The words came out before I could stop them.
Zayden didn’t react.
At least—not immediately.
“You’re not,” he said calmly.
I frowned.
“I’m not staying here.”
“And going where?” he asked.
Silence.
Because I didn’t have an answer.
Exactly.
“That’s what I thought,” he added.
“I’ll figure something out.”
“You won’t,” he said. “Not fast enough.”
That irritated me.
“I don’t need your permission.”
“And you don’t have my protection either if you walk out.”
That made me pause.
Not because I trusted him.
But because I believed him.
“You think I can’t survive on my own?” I asked.
“I think you don’t understand what’s hunting you,” he replied.
That again.
Always that.
“What are they?” I asked.
This time—
He answered.
“They’re not wolves,” he said.
“I figured that much.”
“They’re controlled,” he continued. “By people who don’t care about rules. Or packs. Or balance.”
My chest tightened.
“So they’ll just keep coming?”
“Yes.”
The word landed heavily.
“Until they get what they want.”
My hand moved again.
To my stomach.
And suddenly—
Leaving didn’t feel like freedom anymore.
It felt like walking straight into a trap.