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My heart stops as a flood of pleasant confusion runs through my veins. My fingertips trace my lips, trying to understand the power of that kiss. Questions scatter around in my brain, and I’m confused beyond control.

Did I allow this guy to rock my world with that kiss? How can something so wrong feel so right?

I pick up the towel off the floor and wrap it around me like a straight jacket.

Was I dreaming? No, it was way too real. I try to assemble the pieces, but my mind and body are numb.

Rhyland

19

Prowling through the silent city, my muscles still vibrate from our wild clash of skin on skin. Fuck, her taste—like some sweet, addictive poison—clings to my tongue, and the sound of her breathy moans haunts me. I was a damn hair's breadth from crossing a line I can't come back from.

With every goddamn step, flashes of her body writhing beneath me, yielding to my touch, hammer at my restraint. The night’s cool air does shit all to extinguish what she's ignited within me tonight.

Centuries—fucking centuries—I’ve spent locked away in emotionless ice, and she's the detonator that’s blown that to hell. But now, I’m warring with myself, fighting the impulse to tear down the walls I’ve spent lifetimes building.

I've laughed in the face of love, scorning anything permanent. Commitment? A leash I had no intention of ever wearing. And now? I'm fucking ensnared, battling to break free from the one woman who's restarted my dead man’s heart—forced me to feel again after an eternity bathed in shadow.

This notion that she might be my destined mate—sends a rush of both thrill and dread ripping through my gut. If I follow through with the old laws, if I bond our souls, it's irreversible. That shakes me to the bones. Accepting her as mine would mean shattering the goddamn fortress I’ve so meticulously erected.

But desiring her demands strategy—demands planning. This isn’t some bullshit fling. This is chess with eternal stakes on the board.

When she looks at me with those deep, searching eyes, seeking answers from the mysterious man behind the mask, it fucking guts me. Everything in me wants to rip off the guise, to come clean and offer her the assurance she doesn't even need to speak to ask for.

Yet, I bite back the truth, and that might cost me. She knows about the drugging and got the intel from Lucian when I stood silent as the grave. Will she get it when the truth comes out? Or will she see me as just another bastard who left her vulnerable?

She doesn't know the depth of it—how that whole fucked-up incident tore at me, given the shitstorm brew I'd stirred up, watching from the dark. Guilt eats at my gut like acid. Could she forgive this apparent negligence, a seemingly cold-hearted oversight?

Despite every damn effort to reset, to pull the old cool composure back into place, I can't stop the dread that claws at me. The fear that I’ll lose her before we've even really started grips me and leaves me thinking of moving heaven and earth to keep her.

The more time I spend with Dani, the more I am drawn in, consumed by her light. If we’re truly written in the stars to dance this dance, I’m not about to let it end before the music even fucking peaks.

I push through the back entrance of Lucian's club, the pounding bass assaulting my ears. Bodies sway obliviously as I briskly ascend the stairs to Lucian's office.

Inside, he and Erik observe the monitors with grave focus. "The cretins arrive yet?" I ask tersely.

Lucian smirks. "Just rolled in."

My brothers seethed after learning of Max's violation of Danica. We quickly agreed these assholes must pay, even if we must take matters into our own hands. I give a curt nod of approval. "Excellent. Stay vigilant."

Lucian arches a brow amusedly. "Get into some alleyway tussle, brother?"

Erik barely suppresses a grin. I scowl at their implications. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"Just that you look freshly ravished," Lucian retorts cheekily.

I sigh exasperatedly, examining my disheveled appearance. "Spare clothes in your other office?"

"All yours, stud." Lucian winks roguishly.

I'm torn between confiding my feelings for Danica or keeping them private. Lucian would surely mock me, but Erik might understand. Now isn't the time, regardless. Tonight, I focus solely on eradicating the prick who dared hurt my girl.

In Lucian's luxurious private office, I immediately spot the well-stocked bar. I pour aged whiskey, savoring the smooth burn, fortifying myself for the dark deeds ahead.

Opening an armoire, I peruse Lucian's designer options but opt for dark jeans and a fitted black tee, sleek and casual. The fine materials hug my form as I lace up stylish boots, ready for combat.

Returning upstairs, I find the mood somber. "Any updates?"