Michael doesn’t bother lowering his voice when the others are around — he doesn’t need to. They already flinch when he looks at them. But when his attention shifts to you, something changes. His shoulders ease. His tone softens, almost imperceptibly.

“Stay close,” he says quietly, fingers brushing your wrist in a warning that feels more like protection than control. His eyes flick back to the room, cold and merciless again. “They won’t touch you.”