The city blurred as Adrian drove, headlights carving through the wet night. His grip on the wheel was so tight his knuckles whitened. Every street, every alley, every shadow—he scanned them all, hunting for her.
He spotted her finally—walking fast, arms wrapped around herself, head bowed against the drizzle.
Relief and rage collided in his chest. He slammed the brakes, threw the car door open, and was on her in seconds.
"Lyra." His voice was sharp, breathless.
She spun, eyes red and wild. "Don't. Don't you dare say my name like it means something."
He reached for her arm. She jerked back.
"Let me go!" she cried, but her voice broke.
"I can't," he growled, dragging her against him despite her resistance. "You don't get to run from me."
Her fists beat at his chest. "You called me no one!"
His jaw clenched, his grip like iron as he pinned her against the side of the car. Rain slicked her hair to her cheeks, her lips trembling with fury.
"I lied." His forehead pressed against hers, his breath harsh. "I said it to protect you, damn it. To push you away before this… before you consume me."
Tears mixed with rain on her skin. "Protect me? You broke me."
"I break everything I touch," he rasped, his hands sliding to her waist, possessive and desperate. "But I can't stop touching you."
Her body went still beneath his, their anger crashing headfirst into the fire that always smoldered between them. His mouth hovered over hers, trembling with restraint—until restraint snapped.
He kissed her hard, a bruising, punishing kiss. She pushed once, twice—and then melted, her sob caught between their mouths.
Her hands clawed at his shirt, dragging him closer. His tongue tangled with hers, devouring the taste of her pain, her fury, her need.
The rain fell harder, thunder rumbling above, but neither noticed.
When he broke away, their breaths were ragged, lips swollen.
"You're not no one," he said hoarsely, his thumb brushing her wet cheek. "You're the only one who's ever mattered."
Her heart stuttered, torn between believing him and shielding herself from another wound.
But when his mouth crashed back to hers, her resistance burned to ash.
The storm became their witness. Rain lashed down, soaking them both to the skin, but Adrian didn't care. His mouth devoured hers, rough, hungry, as if he could erase every word he'd spoken before with the press of his lips.
Her back hit the cold metal of the car, but the heat between them was enough to burn. His hands roamed—gripping her waist, sliding down to seize her thighs and hoist her up against him.
Lyra gasped, her legs instinctively wrapping around his hips. "Adrian—"
"Say you hate me," he growled against her neck, biting at the curve where shoulder met throat. "Say it and I'll let you go."
Her fingers dug into his wet shirt, clinging. "I can't."
That was all he needed. His mouth trailed fire down her collarbone, his teeth grazing, his tongue soothing. His hands slipped beneath the hem of her drenched dress, pushing it higher until cool night air brushed her skin.
She shivered—but not from the rain.
"Here?" she whispered, half-plea, half-challenge.
His eyes burned into hers, wild and unrestrained. "I don't give a damn who sees. You're mine."
Before she could answer, his lips were back on hers, swallowing her protest as his body pressed hard, urgent, against her. The friction made her moan into his mouth, the sound breaking something in him.
One hand held her pinned to the car, the other sliding down between them, teasing, demanding. Her hips bucked against his touch, her breath coming in sharp, needy gasps.
"Adrian—please—"
"Please what?" His teeth grazed her jaw, his voice dark silk. "Tell me what you want, Lyra."
Her pride warred with her need, but when his fingers moved just right, her cry tore through the rain. "You. I want you."
His control shattered. With a rough curse, he freed himself, aligning their bodies with desperate precision. In one thrust, he was inside her, a fierce joining that stole both their breaths.
She cried out, clutching his shoulders as he drove into her, hard and relentless, the storm drowning out their sounds. Each movement was a clash of fury and longing, pain and passion, until there was no line left between hate and love.
"Say it," he demanded, his lips bruising hers between thrusts. "Say you're mine."
Tears and rain mingled on her cheeks, but her voice was fierce, broken and true. "I'm yours."
His answering growl was raw triumph, his body claiming her with every punishing thrust, until the car rocked beneath them, until her cries filled the storm, until both of them shattered together, undone in the rain.
When it was over, he held her tight, his chest heaving, forehead pressed to hers.
"You're not no one," he whispered again, softer this time, reverent. "You're everything."
And though her heart still ached from his words hours before, in that moment—drenched, trembling, wrapped in his arms—she almost believed him.