—Natasha's POV—
The peace of the overlook was annihilated in an instant. The sound that ripped through the night wasn't merely an engine; it was a herald of chaos, a thunderous, guttural roar that seemed to tear the very fabric of the quiet darkness. It didn't approach; it assaulted the silence. Twin beams of harsh, white light speared through the trees, pinning Enzo and me like specimens in a jar, freezing us in a moment of shattered tranquility.
The black motorcycle, a creature of shadow and fury, skidded to a violent halt just feet away, spraying a fan of loose gravel and dust. The engine didn't just cut; it was killed with a savage twist of the wrist, its final sound a choked, dying snarl. Zane was a phantom of motion, dismounting before the bike had fully settled, his boots hitting
