Rough Waters: 4. The First Claim

The storm had become relentless, a perfect mirror for the chaos building inside the mansion—and inside Ivy. The wind rattled the windows, rain slamming against the glass, and the sea beyond crashed like an untamed beast. Inside, however, it was the tension between her and Jace that felt most dangerous, most consuming.

They were alone. The power had gone out again, leaving shadows and flickering candlelight to paint the walls in amber hues. Ivy had tried to avoid him, tried to hide in her room, but the mansion was smaller than she’d imagined, and he had a way of finding her, of cornering her, that made every escape impossible.

“Ivy,” he said, voice low, rich with hunger as he appeared in the doorway of her room, leaning against the frame, arms crossed. His tattoos were dark and striking against the candlelight, and the set of his jaw made her pulse leap. “You can’t hide from me.”

“I’m not hiding!” she shot back, though her voice trembled. She wanted to deny the heat