LOGAN — First Person
"What do you want?" I asked her again.
I did not raise my voice. I did not move. I did not even tighten my jaw.
But inside—
Jack was already pacing.
Danger. Danger near mate. Rip threat. Tear threat. End threat.
The witch tilted her head, studying me like I was a toy she had not decided whether to keep or break.
"Her," she said at last, and lifted one finger.
She pointed at Bella.
My chest tightened so fast it almost hurt.
I frowned at once.
The air around us changed.
The kind of heavy that comes before a storm breaks.
"No need to get upset," she said lightly, like she had just commented on the weather. "I really like you. You would probably hate me if I touched her, wouldn't you?"
"Then don't touch her," I said.
My voice was soft.
Very soft.
But Jack bared his teeth inside me.
Say yes. Let me out. I bite her throat. One bite. Quick. Clean.
