Chapter 18 · My Blood Was in the File

"You're not going."

Kael slammed the black-market invite onto the desk between us. His hand stayed flat on top of it, like I might lunge for the damn thing.

I might.

"That's not your call," I said.

"It is when they're auctioning you."

The word hit different when he said it out loud. Auctioning. Like I was a chair. A painting. A stolen perfume formula someone wanted bad enough to bid on.

I stepped closer. "Then I need to know who's buying."

"You need to stay here."

"Where? Your house? Your territory?" I shoved the invite toward him, and his fingers twitched but didn't move. "I've been here three days. Every door's locked. Every window has a wolf outside it. You don't get to call this protection and then tell me I can't leave."

"Protection's the only reason you're breathing."

"Yeah?" I leaned in. "Whose fault is that?"

His jaw tightened.