Colt’s POV
“You cuffed her to the bed?” I snapped at Ashton, staring at the door that separated us from Amanda. He stood there, smoking like none of this was tearing him apart, his face hard as stone.
“She’s not—Amanda!” I moved toward the door, ready to rip it open, but Ashton’s hand clamped down on my collar, shoving me back into the wall with a grunt.
“Calm the hell down, Colt,” he snarled, his forearm pressing against my chest. “You think I want to do this? You think this is some game to me?”
I pushed back, but his grip was like iron. “We’re treating her like a prisoner, Ash! She’s gonna snap! You know what she’s like.”
Ashton released me, but his glare never wavered. “Exactly why she’s cuffed, Colt. It’s two days until the full moon, and if we slip up even once, Conan marks her.
