Chapter 8

The crisp autumn air bit at my cheeks, a sharp contrast to the flush of heat still radiating from my skin. The sun was beginning its slow descent behind the ridge of the forest, casting long, golden shadows across the sprawling field of the archery range. We had been here since morning, the world around us a blur of twanging strings, the thud of arrows hitting target faces, and the distant chatter of other competitors, but my entire universe had narrowed down to the man standing beside me. It was time to leave. The official judging was done, the scores tallied, and now came the ritual of packing up. I moved to my equipment bag, my fingers trembling slightly as I unstrung my bow. The leather grip felt cool and familiar, a grounding weight in my hand, but my mind was elsewhere. I could feel his eyes on me, heavy and possessive, burning into the side of my neck even when I didn’t look. baby girl. The sound of his voice, low and rough like gravel under a tire, made my knees weak. I glanced up, meeting his gaze. He was watching me with that predatory satisfaction, the kind that