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I lower myself beside her. Not to touch. Not to claim. Just to benear—because I hate how much I crave her when I’m not. Because the moment I let myself feel it, it’ll own me.

She rolls onto her back, arms stretched overhead, the line of her body carved from something wicked and divine. Her laughter softens into a hum, some nameless song she probably doesn’t realize she’s making. Her eyes slip shut like she trusts me—like I’m not the threat I know I am.

And I watch her.

Not because I’m allowed to.

Not because I should.

But because I can’t stop.

And because in this moment, with her next to me, naked and unbothered, wrapped in power and promise—I finally feel something close to ruin.

And I want to keep falling. Even if it kills me.

“Why are you doing this for me?” The words slip out before I can weigh them—before I can layer them in irony or lace them in detachment. They’re just… honest. Raw. And I hate how bare they sound.

Luna doesn't miss a beat. Her fingers are still scrolling through my messages like she's reading instructions on how to dismantle a bomb. “Why not?” she says, glancing up at me with a raised brow, the kind that dares me to keep pretending I don’t need help. “Keira’s a bitch for pulling this. And I don’t like her messing with you.”

Something in her tone flattens at that last part. Not flirtation. Not pity. Just a line drawn in the dirt, like she’s already chosen sides—and it’s mine.

The phone in my pocket buzzes again. Then again. And again. I don’t even look. I just hand it to her like I’ve given up the right to respond. Like she’s the only one I trust not to make it worse.

She takes it with one hand, the other still resting against the bare stretch of my thigh from where we ended up on the bed. She’s not shy about the placement—like everything else with Luna, it’s intentional. Casual in a way that feels like control. She opens the message without blinking, eyes scanning whatever garbage Keira sent this time, and lets out a sharp exhale that sounds almost like a laugh.

“Gods,” she mutters, fingers already flying over the screen. “She’s not even creative. Just recycled thirst traps and a filter from hell.”

I watch her type, thumbs moving with precision. No hesitation. She’s not asking permission—she’s already composing the takedown. And fuck, there’s something addictive about that. Not just the confidence. The audacity. She doesn’t justpushinto my space—she inhabits it like it’s always been hers.

“Are you going to tell me what you’re writing?” I ask, careful to keep the edge in my voice, the control I’m always known for.

“Nope,” she says, popping the P. “But it ends with a selfie of us. One where I’m very naked and very much yours.”

“I’m not yours,” I say automatically.

She smirks without looking up. “Tell that to your phone. Or your hand. Or—” she stops, cocks her head, “—your power. It’s been buzzing under your skin since I walked in. Don’t lie to me, Ambrose. It’s beneath you.”

That earns her a long, hard stare. One she doesn’t bother to meet because she’s too busy capturing another picture. This one she takes from above, her body curled against mine, the sheet barely covering her. I’m shirtless, not even posing, just…there.And it’s fucking dangerous, how right it looks. How easy it is to imagine this being real.

Not a deal.

Not sex as currency.

Just her and me.

“Don’t overthink it,” she says softly, clicking send. “This is about Keira. Not you. Not us.”

The words hit harder than I expect, and I hate that they do. I reach out, grab her wrist, not hard—just enough to stop her from pulling away. “You really think this will work?”

She looks at me then. And for a second, there’s something there. Something like affection. But deeper. More dangerous. It passes just as quickly, buried beneath a shrug.

“She’ll get the message.”

The phone buzzes again. A beat. Two. Then nothing. Just silence.

Luna leans in, presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth like it’s punctuation. “You’re welcome.”

She pulls the sheet tighter around herself and slides off the bed, already walking away like none of this meant anything.