In a world ruled by fear, survival comes with a price.
When her brother's attempt to overthrow the Saviors fails, Tessa finds herself under Negan's watchful eye-protected, controlled, and dangerously close to the man she should hate. As violence, po...
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Negan flashed a wolfish grin the second Dr. Carson slipped out the door.
"Well, shit," he said lightly. "Rude not to say hello, sweetheart."
He didn't walk to the bed—he claimed it, dropping onto the edge like it already belonged to him.
Like she already belonged to him.
Tessa's stomach twisted. She shoved herself back until her spine hit the wall.
"Stay the hell away from me," she warned, eyes flicking to the tray beside her. "Or I'll grab those scissors and stab you in the eyes."
Her voice shook.
She hated that he could hear it.
Negan chuckled—low and slow.
Not amused.
Entertained.
Instead of backing away, he leaned in, deliberate and unhurried, until his lips brushed her ear.
She froze.
Her breath locked. Her skin crawled.
"You've got that same glare as your brother," he murmured. "Only difference is... yours is sexy as hell."
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
Don't shake. Don't let him see you shake.
The heat of his breath slid down her neck, and the involuntary shiver that ran through her made humiliation burn her cheeks.
He pulled back just enough to look at her face.
He looked pleased.
"Enough with the I'm-gonna-kill-you bullshit," he said lightly. "Cute, but it ain't gettin' you anywhere. I'm just checkin' in on how my new houseguest's feelin'."
Something inside her snapped.
"I feel like I've been ripped from my family," she shot back, her voice cracking but sharp. "After watching a psychopath beat my friend to death with a baseball bat."
The silence hit like a wall.
Negan's smile vanished.
Gone—like it had never existed.
His eyes went cold. Not anger. Not surprise.
That dead nothingness she'd seen right before Glenn hit the ground.
Tessa, shut up. Shut up. Shut up.
Too late.
He lunged.
His hands clamped around her arms, fingers digging into bone as he yanked her off the bed. Her feet left the floor before she slammed into his chest.
The air punched out of her lungs.
He held her there—not tight.
Controlled.
Like he was proving he didn't even need full strength.
"Let's clear this shit up real quick," he said, his voice dropping into something low and lethal. "You belong to me now."
Her blood went ice-cold.
No. No—no—
"You're mine," he continued calmly. "Which means you watch what comes outta that pretty mouth, or Lucille's gonna kiss that face of yours the same way she kissed your redheaded friend."
Bile surged into her throat.
Her vision blurred. Panic screamed.
"You're hurting me," she gasped, her arms going numb.
Negan's hand snapped up, gripping her chin hard enough to tear a whimper from her throat. He forced her face up to his—so close she could smell leather and blood.
"Do. You. Understand?" he snarled.
Her mind screamed to fight. To spit. To curse him.
Her body betrayed her.
"Yes," she whispered. "Yes... I understand."
Just like that, the darkness peeled away.
The grin snapped back—sharp, satisfied, cruel.
"Atta girl."
He shoved her back onto the bed like she weighed nothing.
"Simon'll come get you," he said casually. "Clean you up. Take you to your new room. You're a mess."
He paused at the door.
Looked at her one last time.
Not like a person.
Like a possession.
Then he walked out—unbothered, unhurried—like nothing had happened.
Tessa stayed frozen, shaking, her heartbeat roaring in her ears. She pressed her hands to her arms where his fingers had dug in.
