"Because I'm yours. And you'll be standing right next to me."
For a second, Logan's stare held hers, something dangerous and tender battling behind his eyes. Then his hand slid to her waist, pulling her closer.
"You're right," he said hoarsely, leaning down until his forehead touched hers. "But tonight… don't leave my side. Not even for a second."
Jean's lips curved faintly, her heart pounding so hard it almost hurt. "Alright."
Logan's breath ghosted across her mouth, but he didn't kiss her… not yet. Instead, his hand traced down her arm, settling protectively at her lower back.
"Let them look," he murmured at last, voice low and sure. "But they'll know you belong to me."
Jean's pulse fluttered wildly at the steel under his words.
And when they finally left the room, her hand tucked into the crook of his arm, Jean didn't feel nervous anymore.
She felt… claimed.
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