The moment stretches too long, and I know with a sick certainty that whatever decision Adam is about to make has already been rendered irrelevant, because Kian has never been patient unless patience serves him, and the shift in the hands pinning me tells me he has moved on from threats to execution. The pressure eases at my shoulders not as mercy but as repositioning, fingers sliding with practiced precision as my arms are hauled back just enough to destabilize me without releasing control, and the cold efficiency of it sends a jolt of fury through my veins that burns hotter than fear.
Adam senses it instantly.
I feel the bond react before I hear him move, a violent surge of intent and restraint slamming together beneath my ribs, and his voice cuts through the forest sharp and absolute a
