The moment felt fragile. Like if she breathed too hard, it would all collapse.
Byron stood close, his coat draped over her shoulders, his eyes locked with hers. There was so much she didn’t know, and still—she had never felt so certain. Of him. Of them.
She opened her mouth to speak—
“Get your hands off her.”
The voice cracked the air like lightning.
Brandon stood at the edge of the clearing, his eyes wild, chest heaving like he’d been running for miles. His shirt was half-untucked, his hair windswept. Rage rolled off him in waves.
Amber was a step behind him, her lips curled in a slow, venomous smile. There was a gleam in her eyes—like this was the moment she’d been waiting for.
Byron instinctively stepped forward, shielding Xochi with his body.
“Back off, Brandon,” he said evenly
