Before I can fire back, he grabs me and kisses me hard—quick and fucking claiming—then tilts my head and bites into my neck. It’s not playful. Not seductive. It’s possession, plain and unapologetic. I hiss, breath catching, and when he releases me his tone flattens as he licks the blood away slowly before kissing me again.
Goosebumps ripple over my skin, that familiar heat pooling low in my stomach.
Jesus Christ, when did I become such a fucking nympho?
I kiss him back anyway, the metallic taste of my blood coating my tongue. He breaks the kiss first, resting his forehead against mine. His breath warm and steady.
“There,” he murmurs against my skin. “Now you’re mine too.”
Kade exhales through his nose nearby, jaw tight, clearly restraining himself.
My knees threaten mutiny.
“I hate you,” I say weakly.
“No, you don’t.” Kade opens the door before I can regain enough dignity to argue. “Alright,” he says, already moving, “get out of here.”
Kross guides me toward it, a hand firm at my back, and with every step closer the rave crashes into me like a fucking wave.
Bass slams into my chest. Fog curls around my ankles. Heat, bodies, and neon swallow the narrow hallway whole, like the bathroom never existed at all. The music feels louder now—heavier—vibrating straight through my bones until it settles somewhere deep and familiar.
Kade cups my face briefly, grounding, before pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “Go find your friends,” he murmurs. “Stay in the building. We’ll come find you when we’re done.”
“Promise?” I ask, and the vulnerability in my voice catches me off guard.
Jesus, Aeri. You’re such a fucking simp.
He nods once. “Always.”
Kross smacks my ass as I step out. “Try not to draw any more attention, valentine,” he calls after me. “I’d really rather not dropanotherbody tonight because some idiot thought he could touch what’s ours.”
I flip him off without looking back and let the crowd swallow me whole.
The rave feels different now. Sharper.
Like someone cranked the contrast all the way up and snapped the knob clean off. Every bass drop punches straight through me, rattling something deep feral and fucking electric. My body is still humming. My skin too sensitive, nerves lit like exposed wire, and whatever’s in my system has turned the world glossy at the edges.
Colors bleed, and sounds stretch. Time does that fun, floaty thing where seconds feel important and meaningless all at once.
I find Harper near the fog machines, right where the lasers slice the air into violent color—red, violet, and neon pink. The kind of lighting that makes everyone look unreal. Anonymous and fucking untouchable. Which I mean, is what they come here for, isn’t it?
Harper grabs my wrist the second she sees me. “Bitch! Where the fuck did you go?”
I blink at her, pupils probably still blown to hell, and take a drink from someone’s cup without asking. “The uh, bathroom,” I reply, which I mean, isn’t a lie. Not really.
She looks me up and down. My neck. My thigh. My face. Takes in the marks I’m definitely not hiding very well.
Her mouth curves slowly. “Uh-huh. Sure.”
Before I can fire back with something smart, she shoves a shot into my hand. “Drink.”
I don’t argue. We toss it back together, the burn hitting a second too late, like my body’s buffering. Someone whoops nearby. Someone else spills half their drink. The fog thickens around our knees and the floor feels like it’s fucking breathing under my feet.
But we dance.
Not pretty, shit we’re not even coordinated. Just bodies moving because standing still would feel wrong and quite frankly, be really fucking boring after the night I’ve had. Sweat slicks my spine, lasers strobe like the world is glitching on purpose.
Luna’s still here too, right where I left her, pressed close to the same guy from earlier. They’re a lot more handsy now, mouths colliding between laughs, his hands low on her hips as they grind together. She catches my eye, grins like she’s having the time of her life, and then goes right back to him like nothing else exists.
