The entire grove goes deadly quiet. Ezra dips between the wooden slats of the fence, stalking straight toward us before we even have a chance to bolt. All eyes are on us, teeth bared and claws extended. The hair rises along my arms at the animosity surrounding us.
Clearly, we’re not welcome.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Ezra snarls. He looks about ready to kill both of us, those eyes turning to a molten blaze. Behind him, I see Madalynn step out from the crowd. She looks concerned, which tells me I probably should be as well.
“I wanted to see where you went every day,” I reply as evenly as possible. I cross my arms to hide my shaking hands.
Ezra says nothing. The air is charged with tension as we stare each other down. But I’m not backing down. I’m not a prisoner—or, at least I’
