Ketahn leaned down slowly, placing his head just above Cole’s, with his mandible fangs almost close enough to touch the man’s cheeks. “Ivy is mine,” he said in English, his accent thicker than normal. “Do not touch. Do not look with want. Do not even think. Understand?” When Cole just continued to stare, another of Ketahn’s hands rose, this one wrapping around Cole’s throat and shoving him back against the already damaged cabinet door. Ketahn growled, “Touch again, and it is done. You are done.”
