Chapter 9
1043 Words
I knew something had shifted the second he went quiet.
Not the usual silence he fell into when he was thinking, but something more deliberate. Something settled. Like a decision had already been made and I just had not caught up to it yet.
I turned slightly and saw him moving toward me.
Slow. Controlled. Certain.
My body reacted before I could stop it, straightening, tension slipping back into my shoulders as the space between us disappeared one step at a time.
“What,” I asked, narrowing my eyes.
He stopped a few feet away, close enough that the bond tightened instantly, a steady pull that made it harder to ignore how aware I was of him.
“You are not leaving,” he said.
I let out a breath. “You have said that already.”
“I am saying it again.”
“That does not make it more convincing.”
“It is not meant to.”
My jaw tightened. “Then what is it meant to do.”
“Prepare you.”
Something about that made my stomach drop.
“For what.”
His gaze held mine, steady, unyielding.
“For the fact that you are not staying out here tonight.”
I frowned. “I was not planning to.”
“You were.”
“I was not,” I said, even though part of me knew he was not wrong.
He studied me for a second like he was measuring whether I would keep arguing it.
“You are staying somewhere I can reach you,” he said.
I crossed my arms. “I am already somewhere you can reach me.”
“Not enough.”
I shook my head. “You do not get to decide that.”
“I already have.”
The certainty in his voice made something in my chest tighten again.
“Where,” I asked, even though I already felt like I knew.
His answer came without hesitation.
“With me.”
I stared at him.
“No.”
The word came out flat.
Immediate.
He did not react.
“Yes.”
A short laugh slipped out of me. “No.”
“You are not staying out here.”
“I will take the couch.”
“No.”
“I will take the floor.”
“No.”
“I will stay right here,” I said, gesturing around me.
“No.”
My frustration snapped. “Then where exactly am I supposed to go.”
His gaze did not shift.
“My room.”
The words settled heavy between us.
I shook my head immediately. “That is not happening.”
“It is.”
“I do not know you,” I said, stepping back slightly. “I do not trust you, and I am not sleeping in your room like this is normal.”
“It is not normal.”
“Then act like it.”
“I am.”
“That is the problem.”
Something in his expression shifted, subtle but there.
“You are safer there,” he said.
“Why.”
“Because it is the most secure place here.”
“That sounds like something you say to make me agree.”
“It is the truth.”
“And I am supposed to just believe that.”
“You do not have to believe it,” he said. “You just have to stay there.”
I held his gaze, refusing to give in that easily.
“No.”
He stepped closer.
The bond reacted immediately, tightening, pulling something sharp through my chest that I refused to acknowledge.
“Stop doing that,” I muttered.
“Doing what.”
“Acting like you have already decided.”
“I have.”
My breath caught for a second.
I hated that.
“I am not staying in your room,” I said again, slower this time.
“You are.”
“Why.”
The question slipped out before I could stop it.
Real this time.
Not just defiance.
He did not answer right away.
For a moment I thought he would ignore it like everything else.
Then his voice dropped slightly.
“Because if they come back, that is where I will hear them first.”
The words landed differently.
Not forceful.
Not demanding.
Just certain.
“And if you are anywhere else,” he continued, “I will not get to you in time.”
My chest tightened.
“That does not mean I have to be in the same room as you.”
“It does if I am not taking chances.”
“I am not something you manage,” I said.
“You are tonight.”
The answer came too easily.
Too quickly.
Like there was no question about it.
I looked away for a second, trying to steady the feeling building in my chest, trying to separate what I was thinking from what the bond kept pushing forward.
“This does not mean anything,” I said. “I am not agreeing to anything.”
“You are staying where I can protect you.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“It is right now.”
Silence settled between us.
Not empty.
Heavy.
I could feel it again, the bond, deeper now, quieter but stronger, like it had already made its decision whether I wanted it to or not.
I exhaled slowly.
“Fine,” I said.
The word felt heavier than it should have.
His expression did not change, but something in his shoulders eased just slightly.
“Good.”
I pointed at him immediately. “Do not say it like that.”
“Like what.”
“Like you expected this.”
“I did.”
I narrowed my eyes at him.
“This is temporary.”
“For now.”
I almost argued that.
Almost.
Instead I turned away, already moving.
“Where,” I asked.
He stepped past me, not close enough to trap me, but close enough that I felt it anyway.
“This way.”
I followed.
Not because I trusted him.
But because right now, staying close to him felt safer than anything waiting outside.
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