The bass thrummed low and dirty beneath their feet. Smoke curled in the air like secrets, and strobe lights cast flashes of gold and blue across sweat-slick bodies grinding to the beat. It was the same club, but everything felt different now. Lucian and Enzo stood in the VIP alcove, away from the crowd, surrounded by velvet ropes and desire thick enough to taste.
Lucian looked like sin incarnate.
Black leather pants hugged his thighs like they were molded to him. His shirt — or what was left of it — clung to his sculpted torso, sheer and soaked from the heat of the crowd. The fabric hung open down the middle, revealing hard planes of muscle and the inked trail of a snarling lycan tattoo that disappeared beneath his waistband. Across his collarbone, a fresh mating mark still glowed faintl
