Page 55 of Vengeful Melodies

Her fingers brush his as she peels back the paper, and my chest tightens. She lifts the book—Forgive Me Fatherby D.D. McDaniel—and her eyes widen. A flush creeps up her neck.

“Oh… damn,” she breathes, voice low, dangerous. “This is… dark. I like it.”

I notice the small tattoos peeking from under her hoodie sleeve—a crescent moon, a cluster of stars, a jagged little line above her wrist. My thumb itches to brush over them, to feel the heat of her skin.

Alix leans against the railing above us, drumsticks spinning lazily between his fingers, grin teasing. “Careful, Kaiser. That book might ruin you before she does.”

Bash lounges on the counter, necklaces clinking against his chest. “Or teach her how to playallof us perfectly.”

Dreya lifts her gaze to me, eyes dark, teasing, lips parting as she sips from her bottle. That small motion—the curve of her jaw, the press of her lips—twists something inside me. She laughs softly, deliberately, full of warmth and heat.

“Maybe I’ll need some help deciding,” she murmurs.

“Help deciding what?” Takoa asks, tone flat but his knee nudges hers just enough.

“You know,” she says, slow, teasing, almost predatory. “Whether I should destroy you all… or bend you to my will.”

Alix shakes his head, smirking. “Don’t give her ideas, Kaiser. She’ll take them.”

Bash leans forward, grin sharp. “I like where this is going.”

Dreya leans back into the couch, curls falling loose, book on her lap, Jack shifting under her hand. Her leg brushes mine casually, teasing, sending heat up my thigh. She knows exactly what she’s doing.

“Careful,” I mutter, low, eyes locked on her. “You’re making it very hard not to… claim you right here.”

She bites her lip, pretending not to hear, but the way her gaze flicks across my chest—deliberate, challenging—makes my gut twist.

Takoa nudges her gently, whispering, “Read it tonight. I think you’ll like the twist.” Fingers brush hers again, just a beat longer than necessary. She leans into him slightly, teasing, eyes glinting.

Dreya tilts her head toward me. “You’re staring,” she says, voice soft, playful, almost predatory.

“You’re distracting,” I shoot back, voice low. “Besides… I like watching you decide.”

Her laugh fills the RV, warm, dark, alive. My chest tightens. The others watch, smirking, aware but letting it play out, letting her pull us all under her gravity.

Jack shifts again, tail thumping, grounding us strangely, a domestic touch in the midst of chaos. But I don’t care. I can’t look away. Every inch of her radiates power, choice, and desire. And I know this is only the beginning.

If she chooses… every single one of us will fall. Hard.

Chapter Twenty Five

Dreya

The rumble of the RV smooths as we pull into L.A., the sky already streaked pink and blue, promising a new day. I’m leaning against the arm of the couch, Jack curled into my side, when Takoa clears his throat from the front lounge.

The room shifts, like someone hit pause on the noise around us.

“We’ll be in L.A. for two nights,” he says, calm but heavy with weight. “Back-to-back shows after that, so enjoy the downtime.”

Kaiser perks up beside me. “Downtime in L.A.? That’s like handing us the keys to a Ferrari and whispering,‘don’t speed.’”

Alix throws a stick at him from the kitchenette. “What you mean is:party.”

“Obviously.” Kai grins.

Takoa leans against the wall, crossing his arms, eyes scanning each of us like a predator checking his prey. “We’re staying at the Hilton. Presidential suite.All of us.”

Bash cackles. “Oh, this’ll go great. Absolutely nothing chaotic about four emotionally unstable musicians and one tiny marketing assistant in a luxury box above Los Angeles.”