Thatis the mistake.
I move.
Not fast or frantic, but with a controlled violence that feels as natural as breathing. I slam my foot into the ground, the impact sending a tremor through the soil, and roar. The sound tears out of my chest, ancient and absolute, carrying with it a promise of pain and consequence.
The creature recoils, startled by the force of it, but it doesn’t flee.
It should.
I advance, shoulders rolling, claws flexing at my sides as I shed the last of my restraint. This is not a warning anymore. This is a declaration.
Mine.
The creature lashes out, a sudden swipe meant to test my reach. I catch it mid-motion, grip closing like iron, and twist. It shrieks—high and furious—scrambling backward as I shove it away with enough force to send it crashing into the brush.
I don’t pursue. I don’t need to. I plant myself squarely between it and Elias, chest heaving, eyes locked on the shadows where it retreated. I release another growl, lower this time, saturated with threat.
“Go,” I snarl. “Now.”
There’s a long, tense pause.
Then the pressure breaks.
The forest exhales again—right this time. Birds stir. Leaves rustle. The sense of being watched recedes, like a tide pulling back from shore.
Only then do I turn.
Elias is white-faced, eyes wide, breath coming in short, sharp pulls. He’s staring at me like he’s seeing something entirely new—and yet not afraid ofme.
“Boone,” he whispers.
I’m on him in two strides, hands gripping his shoulders, scanning him from head to toe for injury, for blood, for anything out of place, despite knowing he was safely tucked behind me the whole time.
“Are you hurt?” I demand.
He shakes his head quickly. “No. I—I—I’m okay.”
His hands come up, clutching at my arms, grounding himself against me. I can feel his heart racing through the thin barrier of fabric, feel the tremor running through him.
Safe.
The relief hits me like a blow, followed immediately by a surge of fury so intense, it makes my vision edge red.
“You shouldn’t have been here,” I snarl, not at him but at the world that dared put him in danger. “This territory is unstable. I should have turned us back sooner.”
Elias swallows, then looks up at me, eyes bright with adrenaline and raw need—heat that curls unmistakably through the air between us.
“Boone,” he says again, voice shaking, “you were—” He stops, clearly struggling for words.
I scent him then, the sharp edge of fear still there, but threaded through with heady arousal. The realization hits me square in the chest.
Oh.
I bare my teeth in what might be a smile if I weren’t still vibrating with rage. “Do not,” I say roughly, “tell me you found that impressive.”
His cheeks flush violently. “I—what? No, I?—”
“You did,” I interrupt. “I can smell it.”