Page 16 of Isaia

“Do not fuck around with this guy,” Molly warns quietly, her fingers still gripping my arm like she’s the only thing keeping me from stepping into a fire.

I snap my gaze to her, whispering back, “Fuck around? I wasn’t planning on fucking?—”

“Everly?”

“Oh, God.” It’s him, and he just heard half the sentence I didn’t get a chance to complete.

Molly looks like she’s expecting me to spontaneously combust under his gaze. I can barely think straight, but somehow, I manage to turn and face him.

Nothing—and I mean nothing—could have prepared me for the moment our eyes meet up close, with him towering over me like a palpable force that could rip the universe apart.

His irises are a burning, impenetrable black, a tempest brooding with raw ferocity and untamed power. It’s mesmerizing and completely unthinkable that I didn’t notice this last night.

I force a smile, hoping it hides the fact that my brain has short-circuited.

“Hi.”

Hi?

Just…hi?

Isaia’s lips twitch slightly, not quite a smile, and the air between us buzzes with tension.

He doesn’t speak right away, just watches me, and I swear he’s peeling back layers I didn’t even know I had.

Finally, he speaks. “You weren’t planning on fucking…what, exactly?” His voice is velvet, smooth, but laced with danger.

“Oh,” I clear my throat, trying to sound casual even though I’m silently praying to die. “You know. Fucking around. Just…generally.”

Another twitch of his mouth—no smile, just a sinister quirk, like he’s enjoying my discomfort.

“Generally?” he echoes, his tone drenched with a subtle mockery that has my cheeks burning.

“Yeah, uh…” I place my palms on my face, trying to hold on to some dignity. “Can we maybe, like, redo this?”

“Redo?”

“Yeah. You walk in all brooding and menacing, like you’re plotting world domination, and I sit here pretending my friend isn’t currently glaring daggers into the back of my head.”

I risk a glance at Molly. She’s pale, eyes wide with panic.

Isaia’s gaze flicks to her for the briefest moment before returning to me, as if she’s an afterthought. “And how do you think this scene should go, then?”

I swallow the lump in my throat, fighting back a shudder. “Well, for starters, you could stride in, leaving me unbothered instead of…you know, short-circuiting my brain.”

“But where's the fun in that?”

I raise an eyebrow, trying to hold my ground despite the chaos going on inside me. “You don’t strike me as the type of guy who's into fun.”

“Depends on the kind of fun.”

Instantly the space around us narrows as tension hums in the air.

“Let me guess,” I start, trying to ignore how my pulse races. “Your kind of fun comes with a lot of rules.”

He leans closer, his gaze never leaving mine. “Not rules. Just…no limits.”

“No limits, huh? That can be dangerous.”

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