Chapter Three

Jhelani’s POV

“What are you staring at? Get the fuck out of here, and ride yourself home. Now.”

Damon’s growl stunned me. I didn’t even realize when he got to me, and now his rough hand was locked around my wrist, yanking me through the club like I was some damn ragdoll.

His long strides forced me to half-run, and half-stumble behind him. The music, terrifying growls, cries, and cracking of bones fading into background noise.

Outside, the cold air bit into my skin, whipping my hair behind that night, but he didn’t stop.

I lost my patience.

“Let me go!” I snapped, twisting hard until my wrist slipped free. I jerked back a step, chest heaving. “What the hell is your problem?!”

He turned his head in my direction almost immediately, his blue eyes freezing my lungs.

“You. My problem is you being here. Do you have a death wish, Snowfire? Do you?”

Snowfire. He said it like a curse. Like my name itself pissed him off. But why did my name sound so sweet and different on his tongue? Like it was some sort of—pet name?

I squared my shoulders. “Last I checked, this is my town too. You don’t get to tell me where I can or can’t go, Damon.”

Something dangerous flickered in his eyes, something dark he was fighting to keep caged.

His jaw ticked, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

“You think this is a fucking game?” His voice was low, gravelly, like thunder rolling before the storm.

He took a step closer, towering over me. “Go home. Stay out of the club, or better, get yourself out of Town. Far away. Or next time, no one will be able to drag your stubborn ass out alive.”

My pulse hammered, heart racing by how intimately close we were.

Fuck. I could hear the wind howling so loud in the woods, making this moment more intense. And I know he did to. The wind blowing up our hair into our faces.

Fear should’ve rooted me to the ground, but instead, fire licked through my veins. I tilted my chin up, meeting his glare head-on.

“Threats don’t work on me anymore, Damon,” I said, voice steady even though my stomach was twisting. “I’m not afraid of you. Or your little biker-pack of assholes and dickheads. Y'all go around causing troubles instead of solving 'em.”

His nostrils flared.

For a split second, his control slipped. His eyes burned...glowing faintly, inhuman...and his skin rippled as if something beneath wanted to be let free.

My breath hitched. “What was that—?”

But before I could finish, he spun away, dragging a hand through his dark hair like he was seconds away from exploding. His back rose and fell with ragged breaths.

“You don’t know what you’re playing with,” he muttered, voice breaking with something more than just anger.

"Then why don't you tell me? What am I playing with? Why should I leave my home Town?" I demanded, walking up to him then stopped exactly three steps away from him.

"Oh, yes! It's because Damon Cross, the most feared guy in town fucking says so, right?!" I snickered, rolling my eyes with my arms folded under my boobs.

He turned, pinning me with one last piercing look. “Stay out, Snowfire. Or you’ll regret it.”

And just like that, he stalked off into the night, leaving me stunned and rethinking his words.

My wrist still burned where he’d gripped me, my mind replaying the flicker in his eyes.

Wolves. But—they don't exist. Yeah. I mean, If they did then I should've probably had known by now. It's just my dumb imaginations trying to play one of it's many bullshit on me.

“Fuck," I cursed aloud. "This is getting crazy. I need to do something about this images before I lose it completely,” I whispered quietly, running a shaky hand through my hair.

“Now that’s my favorite word.”

I steeled up. My head snapped to the side.

Jace. Leaning against my bike like he owned her, his dark eyes glittering under the streetlights, wearing that damned smirk I hated down to my bones.

He raised the soda bottle in his hand, casual as hell. “Rough night, Fox Eyes? Big bad Damon bite your head off again?”

I clenched my fists. “Get off my bike.”

“Relax,” he drawled, taking a slow sip, watching me over the rim of the bottle. “If I wanted to touch her, I’d at least buy her a drink first.”

I glared. “She’s not yours, she’s mine. And the answer’s still no.”

That earned me a low chuckle. He pushed off the bike and stepped closer, circling me like a wolf testing boundaries.

“You’ve changed, Jhelani,” he murmured, his gaze dragging over me in a way that made my skin prickle. “The glasses, the acne, the shy little nerd act… all gone. Now you walk around with red hair, tattoos, attitude. Like fire waiting to burn someone stupid enough to touch it.”

I swallowed hard, refusing to look away. “And yet here you are, circling the flames.”

His smirk widened, but for a brief moment, something raw flickered behind it. His hand flexed around the bottle, knuckles turning white.

“Maybe I like getting burned,” he said softly, almost too soft for the usual Jace I knew. The Jace who always made sure to grate on my nerves every morning at school and totally ruin my whole day every time.

The air thickened, intense. For a second, I swore he was going to step closer...too close...when Damon’s voice broke us apart.

“Jace.”

He appeared again, his tone colder than ice. “Leave her alone.”

Jace didn’t move. His smirk didn’t falter, and his eyes never left mine.

"Jhelani. I told you to leave the clubs earlier. What're you still here for?" Damon reprimanded.

I clenched my fist, ready for a comeback when Jace spoke.

“She’s not yours to command, brother.” I could see him almost rolling his eyes.

"Are you forgetting that she's trouble? Don't tell me she's suddenly your type of girl because of a few changes, Jace. Knock it off," Damon said, his voice low and lethal.

My pulse spiked. The tension between them was suffocating.

“I don’t know what the fuck you two think you’re playing at,” I cut in, forcing my voice to cut through their standoff. “But stay the hell out of my business. Both of you.” I said, then caught Kian standing at the entrance of the club while smoking a joint between his lips right behind Damon.

"Three of you."

I swung a leg over my bike, the engine roaring to life beneath me. My hands were shaking, but I refused to let them see.

“Go back to your little brawl pissing contest,” I spat, glaring at them three. “I’ve got better things to do than deal with your ego trips that makes absolutely no sense to me.”

Then I revved the engine and got out of there, their stares burning into my back.