A Dangerous Gaze

Chapter Two: A Dangerous Gaze

RAVEN’S POV

The moment she walked in, I knew.

I’ve seen her type before—the kind of woman who doesn’t belong in a place like this but steps inside anyway, drawn by something she can’t name.

She’s breathtaking.

Glossy chestnut hair cascades down her back, her navy dress clinging to a body meant to be worshipped. But it’s her eyes that capture me—haunted, lost, searching.

She slides onto a barstool, her hands trembling slightly as she grips the counter.

She’s running from something.

Or someone.

I lean back against the worn leather booth, swirling the dark whiskey in my glass. My usual type is confident, untamed women who know what they want.

But this one?

She’s unraveling.

And I shouldn’t want her.

Yet, I can’t look away.

The bartender places a glass in front of her. She downs it in one go, then winces as the burn spreads through her.

I smirk. Not used to the burn, are you, sweetheart?

Her shoulders tense, like she can feel my gaze. Slowly, she turns.

Our eyes meet.

Something shifts in the air.

Her lips part, just slightly, and for a brief moment, I see a flicker of something beneath the pain—curiosity, maybe even desire.

Interesting.

Most people flinch when I look at them too long.

She doesn’t.

I lift my glass in a slow toast, never breaking eye contact.

Her throat bobs as she swallows, her fingers tightening around her empty glass.

She’s intrigued.

But she doesn’t know what to do with it.

Yet.

---

SERA’S POV

I should look away.

I should turn back to the bar, order another drink, and pretend I didn’t just get caught staring at a stranger.

But I can’t.

The woman in the corner doesn’t move, doesn’t speak—she just watches me. Like she sees something beneath the mask I’ve been wearing for years.

My pulse quickens.

She’s stunning.

Black hair falls just past her shoulders, framing sharp, angular features. Her piercing blue eyes are unreadable, but her smirk tells me she knows exactly what she’s doing.

She’s waiting.

For me to make a move.

I wet my lips, suddenly aware of how dry my mouth is.

What am I doing?

I don’t know this woman. I don’t know anything about her. And yet, there’s a pull—something dark and intoxicating that makes my chest tighten.

I should leave.

But I don’t.

Instead, I pick up my glass and slide off the barstool. My legs feel unsteady as I cross the room, my heart pounding louder than the music.

When I stop in front of her, she tilts her head, amusement flickering in her gaze.

“Lost?” Her voice is smooth, rich like expensive whiskey.

I grip my glass tighter. “No.”

A slow smirk curves her lips. “You sure?”

I don’t answer.

Because I’m not.

She studies me, taking her time, and it makes my skin prickle. Not in fear—but in anticipation.

No one has ever looked at me like this before.

Like I’m something worth devouring.

“Sit.” Her voice is firm, but there’s no demand—just quiet confidence.

I hesitate.

Then, before I can stop myself, I lower onto the seat across from her.

The leather is cool against my bare skin, but I feel feverish.

She leans forward, her elbows resting on the table, her gaze locked on mine.

“You’re married.”

My stomach clenches.

How does she know?

I glance at my ring—still on my finger, a symbol of the cage I can’t escape.

“That obvious?” I murmur.

She shrugs. “Men like your husband don’t let women like you out alone unless something’s broken.”

My breath catches.

I should leave.

This woman sees too much.

But I stay.

“What’s your name?” I ask.

She doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she studies me, like she’s deciding something.

Then, finally—

“Raven.”

I swallow. The name fits. Dark, enigmatic, dangerous.

“Sera.”

Her lips twitch. “I know.”

A shiver runs down my spine. How?

I don’t ask.

Because for some reason, I don’t want to know.

Not yet.

Raven shifts, her leg brushing against mine beneath the table. The contact is brief but sends a jolt of something electric through me.

My pulse flutters.

She notices.

Her smirk deepens.

“Tell me, Sera.” Her voice drops, almost a purr. “Are you here to be found? Or are you here to be lost?”

The question lingers between us, heavy, dangerous.

And for the first time in years—

I don’t know the answer.

---

RAVEN’S POV

I watch her lips part, then press together like she’s trying to find the right words.

She won’t.

Not yet.

Women like Sera don’t know how to say what they really want.

Not until someone forces them to.

I reach forward, trailing a finger along the rim of her empty glass. The movement is slow, deliberate. She follows it, her breath hitching when my fingertip brushes against hers.

There it is.

That sharp inhale.

That flicker of something she doesn’t understand yet.

She’s drawn to me.

She just doesn’t know why.

Yet.

I lean in, just enough to make her heart race. “Your husband doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”

A shadow crosses her face. She shakes her head.

Good.

I glance at her ring again. A gilded cage.

I’ve seen it before.

I know how to break it.

If she lets me.

I smirk, picking up my glass and finishing my whiskey in one slow sip.

Then I push her empty one toward her, my fingers deliberately grazing hers.

“Stay for another drink, Sera.”

A challenge. A promise.

She hesitates.

Then—

She nods.

And just like that—

The game begins.

---

SERA’S POV

I should have left.

I should have walked out of that bar the moment our eyes met.

But I didn’t.

Now, I’m sitting across from a woman whose very presence makes my skin prickle and my stomach tighten.

Raven isn’t like anyone I’ve ever met.

She doesn’t ask.

She doesn’t beg.

She just takes.

And the way she looks at me—like she’s already peeling away every layer I’ve carefully built—it terrifies me.

But what terrifies me more—

Is that I don’t want her to stop.

I reach for the glass she pushed toward me.

And I drink.