Page 57 of The Collector

"Don't ever threaten me," he said, voice cold as steel. "Get the hell out of my club. Now."

Good things didn't happen when Raven lost his temper. The wall beside Elanah's head cracked under the force of his fist, the sound sharp and final. His knuckles ground against the plaster, pain blooming across his skin—but it was nothing compared to the fury clawing through his chest.

He grit his teeth, eyes locked on hers, the silence between them thick with everything he wanted to say and everything he knew he couldn't. He drew in a long breath, forcing his hands back to his sides, fingers twitching with the urge to act. To purge the venom, Elanah tried to inject in him with the threat.

Steve's grip had been firm, efficient—no hesitation, no need for instruction. Before Raven could voice the command, his team had already moved, removing the threat with quietprecision. It was the kind of loyalty that didn't need words, and Raven made a mental note to thank him later.

But now wasn't the time.

He had other things to attend to. Bigger things. Things that mattered.

This wasn't who he wanted to be tonight. Not the man with clenched fists and a fractured calm. Not the storm barely held together by breath and restraint.

And definitely not the man Mynx deserved.

Unhinged didn't suit him when he was with her. She brought out the part of him that remembered softness, control, the kind of power that didn't need to be loud or lethal. But Elanah had him wired tight, and she'd pulled the exact thread that unraveled him.

The threat of losing Mynx—of letting chaos reach her before he did—ignited something deeper than rage.

Raven moved faster now, each step toward Mynx's dressing room a silent vow. No more distractions. No more ghosts. He ran a hand through his hair, the tension in his shoulders refusing to ease. His breath hitched as he swallowed hard, the taste of adrenaline sharp on his tongue.

He licked his lips, not out of nerves but pure determination. He needed Mynx—needed a moment with his Butterfly before the night unraveled any further. His patience for the rest of the world was thinning by the second, frayed by Elanah's venom and the weight of everything riding on tonight.

The hallway stretched ahead, bathed in the soft glow of dressing room lights. Velvet shimmered along the walls, casting a dreamlike haze over the path he walked. But his focus was razor-sharp.

She was there. Waiting.

And nothing would stop him from reaching her.

"Raven, everything alright?" Stoker called from the end of the hall.

"Yeah, I'll catch up to you shortly. Take care of my father for me. I have something I need to attend to before the Stallions arrive."

When he entered the room, she was reapplying her lipstick. The deep crimson was already halfway across her lower lip when her eyes locked onto his in the mirror. Her hand stilled as she saw his reflection behind her.

She didn't speak—didn't have to. Her gaze searched Raven's face for a reason—any reason to approve of his presence there.

He shut the door behind him with a quiet click and leaned back against it, eyes drinking her in. There was a storm still simmering under his skin, but seeing her… hit like cool water and open flame all at once.

"You look…" He ran a hand along his jaw, trying to find the right words to describe how beautiful she was before trailing off to a whisper.

"Intoxicating. Divine. Like the death of me. Like you're about to ruin any illusion I have of keeping my self-control tonight. Of keeping my hands off of you," Raven said, a slight tremor in his voice.

Mynx's voice was quiet, but the edge in it cut clean.

"Your self-control when it comes to me seems to be well in place," she said, eyes still fixed on the mirror. "I haven't spoken to you once since Cabo. I assumed you'd already moved on to the next girl."

She spoke without bitterness, her voice calm and deliberate. As if she had rehearsed the words in silence, shaping them until they fit the ache just right. It was as if she braced herself for this moment, knowing it would come, knowing she'd have to say them out loud.

He stood frozen in the doorway, the weight of Mynx's words settling over him like ash. She hadn't looked at him directly, but the sting in her voice was unmistakable. Her lipstick cap clicked shut with finality, and the question she'd asked hung in the air like smoke.

She glanced at him in the mirror, just once, before her gaze darted away, anxious and guarded. The tension in the room was thick, almost suffocating, and Raven felt it coil around his throat.

He hadn't meant to hurt her.

Regret clawed at his chest, sharp and relentless. He was an idiot, and if there was any justice left in the world, she'd see how sorry he was. See past the chaos he carried and remember the man who made her smile.

Because if he'd truly ruined his chances with Mynx, if she couldn't look at him again with those gold-flecked eyes full of fire and grace, then nothing else mattered. Not the club. Not the deals. Not the empire he'd helped build.