Page 21 of Lords of Ruin: Owned

“She’s busy,” Cast repeats, his voice as smooth and commanding as ever, but there’s an edge to it, a warning beneath the surface.

Jasper doesn’t back down, though. He crosses his arms, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “She doesn’t look busy to me.”

“Maybe because you’re too blind to see what’s right in front of you,” Cast counters, stepping closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over Jasper.

“Okay, that’s enough,” I cut in. I whirl around to face Cast, my annoyance flaring. “Seriously? What is your problem?”

“No problem,” he says, his green eyes gleaming with an infuriating mix of amusement and authority. “Just letting the golden retriever here know that you're not on the market.”

Jasper snorts, leaning back against the lockers with a casual shrug, but there’s a tension in his hazel eyes now. “Funny, I don’t recall Willow asking for your opinion.”

“Doesn’t matter if she asked,” Cast replies smoothly, his gaze never leaving mine. “What matters is that she is mine. Got that?”

“Cast, what the hell!”

His snarl only deepens, and he leans slightly closer, his presence overwhelming. “Don’t tempt me, pawn. You are already on thin ice.”

Jasper pushes off the lockers, his jaw tightening. “Woah Cast, chill out dude.”

“I willchillwhen you back away from my girl.” Cast’s voice drops, smooth as velvet but sharp enough to cut. Jasper narrows his eyes taking a step closer, but I slide between the two with a panicked look.

“Okay, enough!” I snap, turning to Jasper with a weak smile. “Jasper, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Willow-” Jasper protests, but Cast cuts him off.

“She said she would talk to you later Jasper.” Cast growls, and I place my hand on his chest, electricity rushing across my palm but I keep it firmly in the middle of his chest.

I flash Jasper a smile as bright as I can muster under the current of anger rushing through me at Cast’s entitled fucking attitude. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

Jasper gives me a hesitant glance, his confusion morphing into frustration, but he doesn't push it. He takes a step back, a small frown tugging at his lips, but he doesn’t protest further. "Alright, Willow. Catch you later."

As he walks off, I exhale, feeling the tension in my shoulders loosen. But before I can turn away, I feel it—Cast's presence looming behind me, thick and suffocating, and it makes my skin prickle with irritation. I whirl around to face him, my eyes narrowing.

“What the hell is your problem?” I growl, my fists clenched at my sides. The anger bubbles up like molten lava, and I can’t help but lash out. “You think you can just decide who I talk to and when? You don’t own me, Cast!”

He doesn’t move at first, his face impassive, but then he steps forward, closing the distance between us. His eyes, impossibly green, lock onto mine with a cold intensity that makes my breath hitch.

“You can't keep doing this, Cast!” I snap, my voice tight with fury. “You don’t control my life, you don’t control who I talk to, who I date! I am yours temporality.”

He doesn’t budge. In fact, he takes a step forward, his body brushing against mine with a heat that makes my pulse spike. The scent of him—cedar and spice—clings to me, pushing every thought from my head except for him. He’s too close, too commanding.

“Do you think the length of time matters?” His voice is low, rough with something primal, something dangerous. “Right now, youaremine. Tomorrow, you aremine.For the next three months,you are mine.” He steps closer, closing the distance between us until our bodies are nearly pressed together, and I can feel every inch of him. His hands move, one coming up to grip my wrist, the other cupping my face with gentle but firm pressure, forcing me to look up at him. “And even after that. You will still be mine.”

I want to pull away, but there's a fire in his gaze that keeps me rooted to the spot. His green eyes are filled with a raw intensity, hunger, and possessiveness, and it makes my breath hitch. The pulse in my throat is loud enough for him to hear.

“Cast, I will not-” I growl, but he cuts me off.

“You think you can just go out with someone like Jasper?” His tone darkens, and I swear I can feel his anger rolling off him like a storm. “You think you can just flirt with him, let him think he can have you? Do you really think that's going to happen?”

His hand tightens on my wrist, not painfully, but enough to remind me that he’s in control here. “No, Willow. You don’t get to do that.” His voice is a low growl, filled with an edge that makes my knees weak. “You don’t get to give any part of yourself to anyone else. You belong to us, and I’m the one who gets to make sure of that.”

I try to pull back, but it’s like trying to move against a brick wall. His grip doesn’t relent. His thumb traces over my cheek, the touch almost tender despite the fire in his eyes.

“Youdobelong to us,” he says again, his words slow, deliberate, as if he’s savoring them, trying to make me believe it. “I’ve been patient, Willow. But don’t push me. You want someone else to play your little games with? Fine, but just know…” He steps in even closer, his lips brushing against my ear. “I’ll make sure everyone knows you’re mine.”

My heart skips a beat, my breath coming in short bursts as his words sink in. He’s not just saying this to piss me off; he means it. The way his hand moves to the small of my back, pulling me closer, makes it impossible for me to ignore what’s happening between us—this tension, this need.

“Cast-”

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