The night should have calmed her.

It didn’t.

Ra stepped onto the balcony barefoot, heels abandoned somewhere behind her like a decision she refused to pick back up. The cool stone grounded her just enough to pretend she wasn’t still vibrating from everything that had just happened.

The music from the gala spilled faintly through the doors behind her—muted, distant, like a life she was temporarily stepping out of.

Good.

She needed distance.

She needed air.

She needed—

Peace.

Her laugh from earlier echoed in her mind, low and real, Tyler spinning her like gravity didn’t apply, his hand warm and familiar. Safe. Dangerous in a different way.

She exhaled slowly, closing her eyes.

Her gown flowed around her like it had secrets—white, soft, form-fitting where it mattered, open at the back, the fabric catching moonlight and sliding against her skin like a whisper.

Her legs were bare from mid-thigh down, the slit unapologetic, the night brushing against her like it had been waiting.

For a moment—

just a moment—

She let herself enjoy it.

The quiet.

The memory.

The feeling of being wanted from every direction and not choosing any of it.

“That was bold.”

Ra didn’t move.

Of course, it wouldn’t stay quiet.

Lion.

She knew his voice now, the way you learn the shape of something you shouldn’t touch.

Sharp.

Smooth.

Trouble dressed like charm.

She opened her eyes slowly.

“I’m not in the mood,” she said.

“Liar,” he replied immediately.

Ra turned.

And there he was.

Lion Roch.

6’4 of deliberate problem.

Immaculate black tie, except… not quite. The tie hung loose, undone like he’d already decided rules were optional. The top buttons of his shirt open just enough to suggest intention, not accident. The gold command insignia on his shoulder caught the light like it knew it belonged there.

Stylish.

Dangerous.

Too aware of both.

His dark grey eyes locked onto hers, amused, observant—like he was enjoying a game she hadn’t agreed to play.

“I watched you,” he said casually.

Ra crossed her arms. “That’s not the confession you think it is.”

Lion smirked.

“No,” he said. “But it’s honest.”

He stepped closer.

Not invading.

Not yet.

Just… closing space in a way that made her body register him, whether she wanted to or not.

“I liked it,” he added.

Ra raised a brow. “Watching me dance?”

“Watching him watch you,” Lion corrected.

Ah.

There it was.

Mehen.

Ra exhaled sharply. “He wasn’t—”

“Jealous?” Lion cut in, amused.

Ra’s jaw tightened.

“He’s not jealous.”

Lion laughed.

Low.

Real.

“Oh, he’s jealous,” he said. “He just calls it inevitability so he can sleep at night.”

Ra shook her head.

“You don’t understand him.”

Lion stepped closer again.

Now it was different.

Now it was deliberate.

“No,” he said softly. “I understand him perfectly.”

His voice dropped.

“He thinks you’re his.”

Ra’s pulse flickered.

“I am not—” Looking away from him to avoid that hum. 

“I know,” Lion said, and for a second—just a second—he sounded serious.

Then it was gone.

Replaced with something darker.

“But he doesn’t.”

Ra held his gaze.

“And you?” she challenged, watching this suave weapon of a man in front of her that screamed raw desire.

Lion’s smile sharpened.

“I think you’re standing here barefoot after dancing with a vampire who looks at you like history belongs to him… and pretending you’re not enjoying the chaos.”

Ra’s breath caught. 

Damn, did Lion just read her? 

“You talk too much,” Ra said smirking at his open shirt that showed that tanned chest and a mysterious tattoo she hadn't noticed.

“You listen too well.” He stepped in. Lion licked his full lips, looking down into her golden eyes.

Closer.

This time—

too close.

Ra didn’t move.

That was the first mistake.

Lion’s hand lifted.

And then—

contact.

Bare skin.

Her back.

Open.

Exposed.

His fingers brushed the curve of it—light, slow, deliberate—and her entire body reacted like something ancient had just been triggered.

Not love.

Not comfort.

Not admiration.

Something else.

Raw.

Immediate. 

Sexy.

Dangerous.

Ra inhaled sharply.

“Don’t,” she said.

Lion didn’t remove his hand.

Of course, he didn’t.

“Don’t what?” he murmured, voice lower now. Lion's lips were near her ear; she could feel his breathing across her cheek. 

He was so close. 

Her voice tightened.

“Don’t pretend this is innocent.” Lion’s smile deepened. Lion sniffed her hair then. “It’s not.”

That honesty—

that lack of pretense—

hit harder than it should have.

Ra turned fully toward him now, forcing space, forcing control.

“Tyler is non-negotiable,” she said firmly. “He’s my best friend. My Parabatai. My war partner. Mehen would be smart not to—”

Lion laughed.

Cutting her off again.

God, he enjoyed that.

“Your vampire,” he said, amused. “Yes. I noticed.”

Ra’s eyes narrowed. “He’s not—”

“Relax,” Lion said, holding up a hand. “I like him.”

That threw her.

“What?”Ra stepped back, hitting the balcony rail on her back. 

Lion grinned.

“He gets under Mehen’s skin,” he said. “That alone makes him interesting.”

Ra blinked. “That’s your criteria?”

“Absolutely.”Lion smiled, showing his fangs that glistened as he stepped closer to her. 

A beat.

Then Lion leaned in again, closer than before, his presence wrapping around her like something she didn’t know how to categorize.

“You, however…” he murmured.

Ra’s pulse jumped. “What about me?”

Lion’s gaze dropped—briefly—to the line of her dress, the way the fabric curved and moved.

Then back to her eyes.

“You’re trouble, I can not wait to taste,” he said simply.

Ra scoffed. “I’m married,” Ra said, trying to keep things under control . 

Lion’s smile didn’t falter. “I didn’t say unavailable.”

That—

That was a problem.

Ra stepped back again.

Trying to reset.

Trying to breathe.

Lion followed just enough to keep the tension alive.

Not chasing.

Never chasing.

God, she hated that.

“You should go,” she said.

Lion nodded. “Probably.”

He didn’t move.

Ra stared at him. 

Wtf was this man doing exactly?

 And why did she want to rip his clothes off and let him fuck around and find out? 

“Then go.” Ra gestured to the door behind him. 

Lion’s grin turned wicked.

“In a minute.”

And then—

before she could react—

He stepped in again.

Closer than before.

His arm brushed her.

His chest—warm, solid—barely grazed hers as he reached for her hand.

It wasn’t rough.

It wasn’t rushed.

It was deliberate.

He lifted her hand slowly, eyes locked on hers the entire time.

He turned her palm to his and kissed it.

Soft.

Controlled.

Full.

Intimate in a way that felt far more dangerous than it should have.

His gaze didn’t drop.

Didn’t break.

Ra’s breath caught.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

Lion smiled against her knuckles.

“Enjoying the moment.”

Her pulse was out of control now.

“This isn’t a game.” Ra had to get control. Her body was betraying her. 

Lion looked at her—really looked this time.

“No,” he said quietly. “It’s not.”

A beat.

Something shifted.

Then—

just like that—

He stepped back.

Distance.

Gone.

Like he hadn’t just lit something under her skin, she didn’t know how to put out.

He adjusted his jacket, effortless again, composed.

Infuriating.

Ra stared at him. “What—”

Lion turned to leave.

Paused.

Looked back over his shoulder.

That smile again.

Sharp.

Dangerous.

Completely unapologetic.

“If you ever want to talk,” he said casually—

A beat.

Then—

“—or fuck…”Lion stared at her at the invitation he threw her way. 

Ra’s breath stopped.

“Give me a call.” Lion blew her a kiss and walked away. 

And just like that—

He was gone.

Leaving her standing there—

Barefoot.

Breathing uneven.

Mind spinning.

Body—

traitorous.

And one very inconvenient thought is hitting harder than it should have:

Did Mehen take him out of the prophecy…

because of this?

Ra exhaled slowly.

“Yeah,” she muttered to herself. “…that’s a problem.”

And the worst part?

She didn’t hate it. 

In fact, she might just want a taste of Mr Roch.