Kael
The party was a blur of velvet, gold, and wine. People everywhere. Power and polish. Thoren and Nevara did everything right—down to the florals, the lighting, even the blasted harpist near the back. It was a perfect evening.
So why the hell did it feel like the air shifted the moment he walked in?
Tall. Built like sin. Dark auburn hair swept back, rich brown skin kissed by a sun I hadn’t seen in weeks. He wore a black shirt unbuttoned just enough to show off a defined collarbone and the start of a chest that belonged in dreams. His pants fit too well. Way too well, putting his goods on full display. His arms? One flex away from splitting the seams. And that mouth? f**k me. Full, curved, dangerous.
And then—he turned.
Our eyes locked.
I forgot how to breathe.
A jolt ran through
