“Everyone runs from me,” Gage admits, crossing his arms over his chest as he straightens his shoulders, towering above her. Serafina cocks her head, tapping a purple nail against her pursed lips. “That just tells me what people tend to do, not what they should be doing. People don’t tend to run from me.” Gage snorts. “Of course they wouldn’t. What could a tiny thing like you do?”
