Chapter 4 · Temporary

The pharmacy lock clicked and stayed clicked.

Cassian Vale had not stepped back. My wrists were still flat on the steel counter, his coat still between me and the harbor door, and the blood from his palm had dried in a dark line across my collarbone.

"Say it," I told him. "If this is a claim, use a word I can refuse."

His canine rested at the break of my gland and did not break skin. His breath was hot against my throat. His weight was a warning, not a verdict. The cabinet behind him was shut. I could see the bolt and the red emergency latch. I could not see a way out that left me the same medic who had opened this pharmacy.

"Last chance," he said. His voice stayed low enough that the glass bottles did not ring. "Kneel, or I put you in the car and the city decides what you are."

I turned my face toward the locked door. The counter held. His hips held. Nothing had crossed the last inch.

Not yet.