Ravage’s hand settled at the small of Elara’s back, a firm, possessive pressure that immediately sent a tremor of awareness through her. It wasn’t a gentle escort, but a declaration. A silent, undeniable assertion of ownership in the hushed, sophisticated ambiance of the bar. Heads turned, of course. Elara felt the subtle shift in the room's energy, the prickling awareness of being observed. Ravage’s touch was a flag planted firmly, a clear, unambiguous signal to anyone with eyes to see that she belonged, for this moment, to him. The air around them seemed to hum with a new intensity, a palpable undercurrent of unspoken communication that flowed from his touch to her skin, a direct conduit to her very core.
The contact was more than just physical. It was a jolt of pure, unadulterated elec
