Page 9 of Heart of the Rebel Mate

I step in front of her, cutting off her path, and she halts abruptly, eyes flashing. "I'm serious, Elara."

"And I seriously don't care," she snaps. "Cassian isn't your concern."

My jaw tightens. "He is when he's standing too close to you. When he looks at you like—" I stop myself, exhaling through my nose. "He's dangerous."

She lets out a humorless laugh, tilting her head. "And you're not?"

I don't flinch, but it's a near thing. The way she's looking at me—like she's seeing through the layers I've carefully built—sets my teeth on edge.

"This isn't about me," I grit out.

"No, it's about you thinking you can dictate who I talk to." She takes a step closer, chin lifting in defiance. "Guess what, Adrian? You don't get to do that."

Frustration coils tight in my chest. "I'mtryingto protect you."

"I don't need your protection," she fires back.

We're too close now. The air between us hums, electric and heavy. I can see the rise and fall of her breath, the sharpness in her gaze softened by something I can't name. My wolf prowls beneath my skin, restless, attuned to hers in a way I wish it wasn't.

Her lips part like she's about to say something else, but she hesitates, breath catching.

I swallow, pulse hammering.

"Elara—"

She turns on her heel before I can finish, walking away without another word.

I let out a slow breath, watching her go, jaw clenched tight.

Damn it.

My fists clench at my sides, my pulse still pounding too hard, too fast.

I think back on the way he looked at her, the ease in the way he spoke to her like they hadknowneach other before...it was grating!

It hadn't been long enough to mean something. But long enough towonder.

I exhale sharply, raking a hand through my hair. My pulse is still too high, my breathing uneven, and I hate it.

And Elara?—

I grind my teeth.

She hadn't looked pleased to see him. Her body had been taut with something sharp and unreadable, and the tension in her shoulders hadn't been the kind that came from comfort. But she hadn't been surprised, either.

Which means this wasn't the first time.

The thought sends something hot and ugly through me.

I tell myself this is about her safety, about the growing suspicion curling around Cassian like a shadow. If he's involved with something dangerous, she's at risk. That's why I need to know. That's why Ihaveto push.

But beneath it, something else churns.

Something raw.

Because no matter how much I try to frame this as logic, as reason, the truth digs its claws in deep.

It wasn't just Cassian I wanted to shove away from her.

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