She drops the laundry basket. The world doesn’t stop—but my pulse sure as hell does.

“I—” I blurt, diving for my phone like it might save me, but she’s already lunging across the couch. Her fingers snatch at the screen, and I scramble, rolling off the beanbag in the most undignified sprawl of my life.

“Silas,” she hisses, climbing over the armrest.

“It was research!” I yelp, clutching the phone to my chest.

“Research?” she echoes, incredulous, but there’s laughter chasing the fury in her voice. Dangerous laughter. Sexy, terrifying, about-to-ruin-my-life laughter. “Silas Veyd, youlittle pervert, why do you have thatexactpicture of me on your phone?”

“I have a folder,” I mutter before I can stop myself.

“A folder?”

Gods. Take me now.

“It’s—look—technicallyit’s called ‘Sunlight & Sin,’ and it’s mostly just very tasteful nudes—”

She tackles me.

Full body. All limbs. I go down hard with a wheeze, phone flying out of my grip and landing god knows where. She’s on top of me, straddling my waist, fingers pinning my wrists to the floor, and she’s laughing now, eyes sparkling like this is the best moment of her entire damn life.

“You labeled a folder ‘Sunlight & Sin,’” she repeats, in full mockery mode, and I groan, cheeks burning so hot I might combust.

“I panicked! I wanted it to sound...poetic!”

“You’re disgusting.”

“I’min love with you,there’s a difference,” I shoot back, grinning even though she’s probably going to strangle me.

Her breath catches—just a little. Enough.

We freeze.

Her hands still on my wrists. Her knees pressing into my hips. My heart thudding like a war drum, because I said it. Again. And I always mean it. She knows I mean it.

Luna stares down at me, all heat and mischief and god-tier curves, then lowers herself just enough to brush her mouth against mine—not a kiss. Just a whisper of promise.

“You’re still deleting the folder.”

I groan. “What if I—archival purposes? Historical record? My therapist—”

She bites my neck. Hard. I yelp and twist under her, laughing now, helpless in the best way.

“Say it,” she demands, sitting up, triumphant.

“I’ll delete the folder,” I say, mournful.

She boops my nose. “Good boy.”

And just like that, I’m ruined all over again. But I’ll be damned if I’m going down alone.

I point directly at Elias, sprawled like royalty on the couch, phone in hand and smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth. “He’s got them too,” I announce dramatically, finger stabbing the air like it’s the final act of a courtroom drama. “Don’t let the meatstick fool you. His background used to be your ass in the moonlight.”

Elias chokes on absolutely nothing. His whole body convulses like I just drop-kicked him in the soul. “You traitorous dick fungus.”

Luna’s head snaps toward him. Her eyes narrow in that lethal way that means someone's about to cry, and it’s not going to be her.

“What exactly,” she says, slow and deadly sweet, “is on your phone, Elias?”

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