"I'm not a prey! " she yelled, slicing through the tension sharply.
He had entrapped her with his charm, smooth words, and hidden tricks, as if she couldn’t see it clearly. As if she was meant to feel special about the attention that came with unseen chains.
But she had her own strength.
And she was armed with challenges.
She had spent far too much time feeling sorry for taking up space, too much time shrinking under someone else's stare. No longer.
She was not an object to hunt, control, or own. She wasn't just a woman standing by, waiting to be chosen. She was the spark that ignited if treated carelessly.
They could watch, they could want—
But they could not conquer.
She wasn’t a target.
She was her own fierce spirit,
And no one can survive trying to capture her.