Mara’s pov

We moved at the same time.

One second, the notebook was safe in my hands.

The next—his fingers brushed the corner of it.

Spark.

“Give it here,” he said. As he tried to grab it from me.

His voice was calm.

His eyes?

Not calm.

Not even close.

They were dark. Sharp. Saying things his mouth refused to say out loud.

I hugged the notebook to my chest like it was mine now. Because maybe it had always been mine, it was just in the wrong hands.

“Nope.”

He froze. Slowly. Like sudden movement might ruin him.

“Mara,” he said, half warning, half breath, “this is not a...