"I need ten minutes alone with her." Brynn drums her gnarled fingers against the couch. "A necessary calibration before the spell. The glamour needs to sync with her energy signature."
Logan's response is immediate. "No."
The word lands between us like a brick. His posture shifts subtly—shoulders squared, jaw set. Alpha mode activated.
The witch's old eyes glitter with amusement. "Scared of what I'll say, or what she might admit?"
I nudge Logan with my elbow, keeping my voice low. Time to be mature, calm, rational Nicole, not the crazy jealous version of me I've been since I learned of her existence. "I'm fine. Ten minutes. You'll be in the next room, right?"
His expression darkens. A muscle twitches in his jaw as he stares down at Brynn, who meets his gaze with undisguised delight. I can practically feel the testosterone radiating off him.
"Ten minutes," he finally growls. The look he gives me says it all: scream and I'll come running.
