Claimed By The Predator
“Relax, Thorne. Just saying hi.”
I step out from the wall. Let the light hit my face. My hands are loose at my sides, my stance easy—but my eyes stay locked on his.
“Fuck. Off.”
There’s a beat of silence.
Predators understand tone. They know the difference between a warning and a promise.
The tallest shifts first, muttering something about “territorial” as they break formation. The others follow, trying to look casual. Failing.
Now it’s just him and me.
I take a step closer, not enough to crowd him, but enough to put my shadow across his shoes. He tilts his chin up slightly to meet my eyes.