Chapter 2: Pierce's Return

That night, Pierce pinned me to the bed.

He didn’t knock. He never did. The tent flap swung open, letting in a rush of cold air and the faint woodsmoke from the officers' fire. He was on me in a blink—heavy, insistent, all anger and muscle.

He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him with a grip that hurt.

His fingers dug in, but I refused to flinch. The stubble on his jaw scraped my cheek. My pulse hammered as he leaned close, eyes sharp as broken ice.

"I’m marrying the senator’s daughter. Are you jealous?"

His voice mocked, but beneath it, I caught something else—pride, or maybe fear.

He sneered. For a second, his eyes flickered—almost like he wanted to take it back.

His lips twisted, and his grip tightened, daring me to fight back. The little lamp on the crate flickered, throwing his shadow huge across the canvas.

"Still so stubborn."

There was a strange fondness in his rough voice, a challenge hanging between us.

"After I marry her, nothing between us changes. I bought a house out by the edge of town. Wait for me there, okay?"

His promise felt like a threat. He spoke as if it was already settled, his certainty turning my stomach. Outside, the wind rattled the tent poles.