“Colton,” he says, the one word causing my eyes to slip shut. “We said no running.” “You said,” I fire back, my hands curled into fists at my sides. “I meant it.” “I don’t know what this is,” I rasp. “You’ll figure it out.” “Oh, fuck off,” I say, turning in his direction, his calm tone pissing me off. “Don’t say it like that, like I’m some sort of…foal who’s just learning how to walk. I’m not that green, King.” “No,” he says, smiling now. “You’re certainly no foal. You’re my colt.” I scowl at the man, and his smile broadens. “What are you so afraid of?” he asks, tone gentle despite his words.
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