Chapter 9 · Don't Think About Him

"Don't touch that door." Julian caught my wrist before my fingers reached the handle.

His grip locked around me. Warm palm. Hard fingers. Too close.

I looked down at his hand, then up at him. "You planning to keep me on a leash all night?"

"If the leash keeps you alive, yes."

"Try it, golden boy."

His jaw tightened. The bond between us pulled like a wire under my skin, passing his warning straight into my skull. Not words. A flash of pressure. Fear, buried under control.

I yanked against him. "You felt that too."

"I felt you about to do something stupid."

"You always this charming when you're trespassing?"

"You always this loud when you're scared?"

I drove my elbow toward his ribs.

He turned, caught my arm, and shoved me back against the brick wall beside the door. His body blocked the narrow alley. His forearm pressed above my shoulder. His breath brushed my cheek.

"Careful," he said. "The League warrant has my seal on it. If patrols find you here, they won't ask questions. They'll drag you back to the Null cells."

"And if they find you hiding beside me?"

"They'll drag me somewhere worse.