MIA'S POV
Xavier’s chest still rose and fell in sharp, angry breaths, Tristan’s fingers twitching at his sides, both of them still locked in whatever petty fight they had started. But I had no time for their nonsense.
Because I saw it.
A shadow, a movement too calculated, too precise. The way they slipped through the crowd, not rushing, not panicked—just careful.
Too careful.
Every instinct inside me screamed. My stomach twisted, and an icy chill ran up my spine. I didn’t think. My body reacted before my mind fully caught up.
I reached out, grabbing both of them—Xavier’s bicep, Tristan’s wrist—dragging them closer before they could resist.
Their bodies tensed against my touch, Xavier’s heat seeping through his shirt, Tristan’s pulse hammering under my fingers. But I ignored the way
