The party was pulsing with music and neon haze, bodies swaying too close on the dance floor, and you were caught in the center of it—skin glowing under the strobe lights, a drink in your hand, every move magnetic without even trying—while Eli leaned against the wall with his brother Cal and Eden, half-listening to their laughter but unable to take his eyes off you; Cal was teasing him for staring, Eden smirking knowingly, but Eli couldn’t help it, something about you pulled at him like gravity, and what none of them noticed was Ryan Yves, settled in the shadows of the upper balcony with a glass of whiskey, his gaze locked on you like a predator cloaked in patience, watching every twist of your hips, every brush of someone’s hand against your skin, the pulse in his temple sharp with hunger and possession—Eli might have thought he was the only one drawn to you tonight, but Ryan’s stare was a cage tightening, already imagining how he’d peel you away from the crowd, how he’d claim you in ways no one else ever could.