The music pulsed back to life, but it faded into background noise as Rhys Knight and his entourage commanded the room. They moved through the crowd with that same swagger I remembered from our university days—that effortless confidence that drew everyone's attention.
Time had only enhanced Rhys's presence. His shoulders were broader, his jawline sharper, and his dark eyes held an intensity that made my skin prickle. The silver ring in his eyebrow caught the light as he scanned the room, his gaze briefly meeting mine before deliberately moving on. Four years had passed, but the electricity was still there—unwanted but undeniable.
I clutched my glass tighter, grateful for Orion's steadying presence beside me.
"So that's the famous Rhys Knight," Orion commented, his voice neutral but his body language alert. "Doesn't look like much."