“Iamcareful,” I snap.
Poe’s voice stays calm. “No, Oz. You’re protective. That’s not the same as careful.”
I swallow. “What do you want me to do? Not feel it?”
Poe pauses. “I want you to keep your brain online. Because I’d hate to have to rescue you when things go sideways.”
My mouth tightens. “You’d love rescuing me.”
Poe scoffs. “I would hate it. You’d never shut up about it.”
I smile faintly despite myself.
Then Poe adds, quieter, “She good?”
I glance back at the window. That warm glow. That bed. That girl I shouldn’t want this much. “She’s… better,” I say. “When she laughs, it’s like?—”
“Don’t,” Poe interrupts. “Don’t get poetic. I’ll hang up.”
I huff. “Whatever.”
Poe’s voice softens. “Just… don’t forget who you are, Ozzy. You can love her. But don’t let love make you reckless.”
I swallow. “Yeah.”
“And when the time comes,” Poe says, “tell her the truth. Before someone else does.”
My chest tightens. Because I already know that conversation is going to cut. “Okay,” I murmur.
Poe sighs. “Call if you need me.”
“I always need you,” I say, deadpan.
Poe snorts. “Gross.”
I hang up with a laugh.
The porch creaks under my weight as I stand there for another beat, staring into the dark. Then I tuck my phone in my pocket and go back inside. Because Salem is in that bed, warm and trusting and finally sleeping without flinching at every sound. And no matter what Dean just told me— Salem is mine to protect. And I’m going to keep her safe long enough for her to find out what she deserves.
Even if I have to burn the whole world down to do it.
TWENTY-ONE
SALEM
I wake up to the bed shifting. It’s still dark outside. Ozzy slides back under the covers like he belongs here. Likewebelong here. His heat finds me immediately, a warm press at my back, his arm curling around my waist. For one sweet second, my body relaxes into him like nothing bad exists. Then I feel it. The tension in him. Not the kind that means he wants me. The kind that means he’s carrying something heavy and sharp, trying not to cut me with it.
Ozzy’s mouth brushes my hair. “Salem.”
My eyes open fully.
His voice is low. Careful. Like he’s choosing every word.
“Yeah?” I whisper.
He doesn’t answer right away. His hand flexes against my stomach, then stills. “I don’t want to lie to you,” he says quietly. “Ever.”
My heart stutters. Something cold creeps under my ribs. I shift, turning in his arms so I can see his face. In the dim light from thebedside lamp, Ozzy looks… carved out. Jaw tight. Eyes steady but too serious. My stomach drops. “Okay.”