Nathan had argued with me for twenty straight minutes.
Real, full volume, pacing the room, jaw clenched, hair messed from dragging his hands through it kind of arguing. He only argued like that when he was terrified. Which, apparently, was often these days.
“You are not going back there,” he said, standing in front of the door like his body alone was the proper security system against my stubbornness.
“I am going,” I said. “My mark is literally pointing at the quarry. What do you want me to do, ignore it?”
“Yes,” he snapped. “Exactly that.”
I crossed my arms. “If you try to lock me inside, I am climbing out a window.”
His eyes narrowed. “You would not.”
I lifted a brow. “Nathan. Think very carefully about everything you know about me. Now answer that again.”
His mouth tightened.
L
