Raven felt it the moment she stepped into Eden that night. The air was off. It wasn’t the music, still pulsing, dark and magnetic. It wasn’t the crowd, still rich, drunk, and unaware they were standing on top of a wolf’s den.
It was something else. A disturbance in the current. Like someone had shifted the power in the room. Someone new.
“Brace yourself,” Talia muttered as she walked past Raven backstage, eyes flicking toward the bar. “The baby devil’s in town.”
Raven frowned. “Who?”
Talia didn’t answer, just pointe.
And then she saw him. He was leaning against the bar, drink in hand, smile lazy and dangerous. Blonde hair curled slightly at his collar, jaw sharp enough to wound, suit fitted like a second skin. Where Jaxon radiated ice and command, this man was all fire and charm.
Zan
