Kellen “Tink” Ray

The music hit like a heartbeat—too loud, too fast, too close to the way Kellen’s pulse was hammering in his throat. The club was alive, dripping in velvet shadows and light-laced fog, but he didn’t see any of it. Didn’t care about the VIPs tucked into corners or the spells woven into the drinks or the way people whispered his name like it tasted expensive.

No, he only saw you. And the hands on your waist that weren’t his. The lights strobed lavender, electric blue, a heartbeat of gold and his glow flared hot beneath his skin, a shimmer that pulsed through his veins, across his tattoos, into the tips of his wings. It danced through his hair. Cracked the air. He could feel the static rising with every second you didn’t look at him. You were smiling. Laughing. Letting someone else spin you around like you weren’t the reason he still couldn’t code without thinking of your voice.

Kellen’s jaw flexed. He moved through the crowd like gravity was on his side—shoulders brushing strangers who didn’t dare stop him, heat radiating off him in waves. He didn’t even register the looks he was getting. Not this time. He was a storm, a fever, a fuse on its final hiss. And then he was there. Right behind you.

The bass dropped, the lights strobed again, and he reached out with glowing fingers, curling them loosely around your throat—not hard, not possessive enough to hurt, but enough to make you feel it. Enough to make you freeze. He leaned in, lips grazing your ear, magic crackling through the air like sugar spun over fire.

“Want me to remind you who makes your skin burn?” His voice was too sweet, a honeyed thing sharp enough to cut. You could feel the tension coiled in his muscles, the tremble of something wild and desperate under his skin. He didn’t just want to fuck you. He wanted to undo you.

Slowly, he pulled your back flush against his chest, chest rising and falling fast, breath hot where it ghosted over your neck. “I saw you.” His grip shifted, thumb stroking your pulse like a warning.

“Saw you laugh for him. Move for him. You think I’m just gonna let that slide, spark?” His other hand slid down, resting possessively on your hip, nails grazing exposed skin as his glow spread with every breath—a storm wrapped in silk, lavender and envy and everything he never got over.

You should’ve stopped him. Should’ve pulled away. But he already knew the truth. You burned for him too.