“You’re the priority now.” I cross my arms over my chest, immediately uncomfortable. This is new, and the newness is unsettling. I don’t even clock it in myself that I’m placing a barrier between us with my arms—but Sam does, he stares at them, his face lightening in amusement. “And I don’t know whether you’ve been someone’s priority before,” he says as he reaches over and gently uncrosses my arms. “Maybe the mercenary’s, but then, maybe not—I don’t know. Doesn’t matter though. You’re mine now.”
