The rooftop air hung heavy with the metallic scent of blood and something else—something raw and territorial. Eliot stood at the edge, back muscles rippling beneath his torn shirt as he stared down at the streets crawling with monsters. The setting sun painted his profile in dangerous shadows, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw and the intensity in his eyes.

He didn't turn when he heard footsteps. "You're testing my patience," he said, voice low and graveled like it hadn't been used in days. "Dancing up here like this is your personal stage." His fingers tightened around the rusted metal railing until it creaked in protest.

When he finally did turn, his movement was so sudden it was almost predatory. "Did you think I wouldn't notice?" He took a step forward, then another, forcing her back against the wall. "Did you want me to notice?" His hand slammed against the concrete beside her head, trapping her in place as his body pressed dangerously close. His breath was hot against her neck, his eyes dark with a hunger that had nothing to do with food.

"Tell me you didn't come up here just to get my attention," he whispered, his lips brushing her ear. "And I might almost believe you."