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“Are you stalking all festival visitors,” I asked sweetly, “or am I just special?”

James’ laugh was rough velvet. “Oh, you’re definitely special.”

“Fascinating,” I echoed Xander’s earlier tone from our café encounter. “Do those lines actually work on anyone?”

“You tell us,” Xander moved closer, and something in my chest hummed traitorously. “You’re still here, after all.”

“Maybe I just enjoy watching you fail at basic social interaction.”

Liam dropped onto the bench beside me with casual grace, close enough that his designer-clad thigh pressed against mine. “We could show you much more entertaining things.”

“I’m sure you could,” I said dryly, ignoring how my pulse jumped when Xander claimed the space on my other side. “Like how to lurk menacingly in formal wear? Or is there an advanced course in creepy stalking I should know about?”

“Such a sharp tongue,” James rumbled, remaining standing but somehow looming closer. “Makes us wonder what else it can do.”

Heat flooded my face, but I refused to back down. “Probably better things than whatever rehearsed lines you’re about to try next.”

“Rehearsed?” Xander’s voice dropped lower, and the sound did illegal things to my insides. “Trust me, little fox, nothing about our interest in you is scripted.”

Little fox? The nickname sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. “Your creativity with pet names is truly stunning. Do you practice those in the mirror?”

“Only when thinking of you,” Liam murmured, his breath warm against my ear.

I absolutely did not lean into the heat of him. Just like I definitely wasn’t hyperaware of Xander’s thigh pressed against my other side or the way James had shifted to effectively cage me in with his presence.

“Well, this has been sufficiently creepy,” I announced, proud that my voice stayed steady. “But I should?—”

“Stay.” Xander’s hand found my wrist, his touch electric. “Watch the lantern lighting with us.”

“Because that’s not serial killer behavior at all.”

James’ grin was pure predator. “We promise to be perfect gentlemen.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“Smart boy,” Xander purred, and why did that praise make my stomach flip? “But you’re still not leaving.”

He was right, damn him. Something about their presence was magnetic, drawing me in despite every warning bell in my head. Mom’s voice echoed in my memory: “Trust your intuition, but remember—sometimes danger calls because it sees its own reflection.”

The lanterns above us began to glow as dusk settled in, and I found myself caught in a web of dangerous attraction and even more dangerous curiosity. The Blackwood brothers watched me like I was a puzzle they were dying to solve, and the scariest part?

Part of me wanted to let them.

“Come,” Xander said, offering his hand with aristocratic grace. “Walk with us.”

“I don’t take walks with strange men,” I shot back, even as I reached for his hand. “Especially not ones who look like they’re auditioning forBritain’s Next Top Predator.”

James’ laugh was a rough, delicious sound. “He’s got you there, brother.”

“And yet,” Liam murmured from behind me, close enough that I could feel his breath on my neck, “you’re still coming with us.”

I was. God help me, I was letting Xander pull me to my feet, trying to ignore how perfectly my hand fit in his. How his thumb brushed over my pulse point in a way that sent electricity racing up my arm.

“The festival is lovely at twilight,” Xander said, holding my hand as we moved through the crowd. James and Liam flanked us like extremely attractive bodyguards, creating a bubble of space that had nothing to do with the crowd’s natural movement and everything to do with pure predatory presence.

“Do you always narrate your stalking?” I asked sweetly. “Or am I getting the premium experience?”

“Oh, you’re definitely premium.” Liam grinned, sliding closer to brush against my side. The contact sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the cooling evening air.