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And now Caspian feels it too. The rawness of what it means to be truly bound to her.

He’s ruined and glowing and completely hers. That should be a warning. It should be a goddamn red flag. But all it does is make the pressure in my chest bloom wider.

I crack open a beer and let the foam hiss over my fingers.

Ball and chain? No. That would be too easy. Luna doesn’t bind you. She buries you. In want. In power. In fucking inevitability.

The snickering cuts through the haze of my thoughts like a blade made of idiocy. Sharp. Annoying. Familiar.

I don’t even have to look to know it’s them.

But I do. Because hope dies last, and maybe—just maybe—there’s a chance they aren’t defiling my property.

Nope.

Hope’s dead.

I round the far side of the garage, beer still in hand, and there they are. The dynamic disasters. Silas crouched like a gremlinbeside the back tire of my bike, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth while Elias leans against the wall like this is performance art and not a full-blown crime against machinery.

Silas glances up at me, wide-eyed, as if he’s surprised I caught him with the tip of his finger dragging something thick and black across the chrome. He’s not even subtle. He’s halfway through detailing a pair of balls—shaded, for fuck’s sake.

My bike. My pristine, custom, matte-black motorcycle now has a penis on it. A well-endowed one.

“I will kill you,” I say, flatly.

Silas grins like I’ve just offered him dessert. “You always say that. You never do. Honestly, at this point, I feel like it’s an empty threat and I’m emotionally wounded.”

“You’re going to be physically wounded in about three seconds,” I mutter, grabbing his collar and hauling him up like a sack of stupid.

Elias doesn’t even flinch. “If you’re gonna do it, do it fast. We’ve got plans later. I told Luna I’d teach her how to flip someone over her shoulder.”

“Why the hell would you teach her that?”

He shrugs, biting back a smirk. “So she can flip you.”

Silas, dangling slightly, beams. “And then pin you. Real dominance play, you know?”

I shove him off me. He stumbles, catches himself, and has the audacity to bow.

My fingers twitch. This is what it’s come to—dodging an ancient, primal bond that wants to rip me open from the inside while these two assholes treat the end of the world like recess.

But Luna loves them. Bonds them. Trusts them. She lets Silas press grinning kisses to her cheek like it’s his damn right. She lets Elias wrap her in sarcasm and heat until she’s laughing through her own power. They get to be her escape.

Me? I’m the one she doesn’t look too long at. The one she’s still deciding whether she wants to burn or bend.

And that’s fine.

I prefer it that way.

“Clean the bike,” I tell Silas. “If I see one drip of ink when I check it again, I’m ripping the engine out and throwing it in your bed.”

“You say that like that’s not an upgrade.”

Elias snorts, already walking off. “He sleeps better on hard surfaces anyway. Builds character.”

I watch them disappear around the corner of the garage, bickering like idiots.

And for a second—just a second—it’s almost easy to pretend everything isn’t unraveling. But the pull throbs in my chest again, a low, hungry ache dragging my thoughts right back to her.