As if the name unleashed something in me, I was immediately overpowered by a flood of emotions I couldn’t even separate properly. First, fear. Cold. Sharp. Immediate. Then Something else. Courage. It was Strange, unfamiliar. But there. I turned to him slowly, my brows pulling together. “What did you just say?” “Claire,” he repeated, his gaze already fixed somewhere beyond me. “She’s here.” My heart skipped. Then dropped. “Why would she come here?” I asked, my voice lower now, cautious. “I hope she’s not about to make a scene.” “I wouldn’t put that past her at this point,” he replied, his tone calm but his eyes were alert, focused, calculating. Watching. Waiting. “Come closer,” he added suddenly, pulling me gently but firmly against him. My body responded before my mind could catch up. “Why?” I asked softly, my hand instinctively gripping his shirt. “She can’t touch you if there’s contact between us,” he said. Simple. But not light. Not casual.
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