Ashton didn't wait for her response.
He turned on his heel and strode out of the room, the door swinging shut behind him with a loud, final thud. The sound echoed, sharp and final, like a judge's gavel slamming down at the end of a trial.
Danelle remained frozen, her back against the wall, her breath caught somewhere between her chest and her throat. The silence around her rang loud, heavy with everything he'd just said—and everything he hadn't.
She could still feel the heat of his body where he had towered over her moments ago. Her pulse hadn't calmed. Her skin still tingled from his nearness, from the words that had tumbled out of his mouth like chains meant to bind her.
"You are mine…"
It wasn't just a declaration—it had been a warning. A claim. A line drawn in something darker than just ink.
