The door swung shut behind them with a dull thud, muting the chaos outside. The room smelled faintly of sweat, smoke, and something sweeter—something dangerous.
Soraya didn't speak at first. She just stood there, watching him, arms crossed like a queen surveying a trespasser in her court. The low light caught the curve of her cheekbone, the glint of metal at her wrist. She looked lethal and untouchable.
Jace, for once, didn't have a quip ready. He shifted his weight against the wall, hands shoved deep into his pockets, fighting the sudden restlessness bubbling up inside him. He wasn't scared—no, not scared—but she made him feel something close to it. That itch beneath the skin, the one that warned you this could destroy you if you weren't careful.
"You don't belong here," she said finally, her voice low, almost bored.
Jace tilted his head. "Neither do you."
That earned him the smallest flicker of a smirk. Almost invisible, but it was there.
Soraya took a step closer. He caught the scent of her perfume—something dark, heavy, almost hypnotic. It made it hard to think. She was looking at him like she was measuring something, weighing him in her mind and finding him lacking.
"You have no idea who you're messing with," she said, and for a moment, the veneer cracked. He saw something flash in her eyes. Something almost—tired.
It made his chest tighten unexpectedly.
"Maybe not," Jace said, voice rougher than he intended. "But you don't scare me."
A lie. She terrified him. Not because she looked like she could tear him apart, but because part of him wanted her to.
Soraya's laugh was a low, dry thing. She reached out—slow, deliberate—and grabbed a fistful of his T-shirt, yanking him forward until their faces were just inches apart.
"You should be scared," she murmured.
He could feel the heat of her breath against his mouth. His heart was pounding so loud he was sure she could hear it. But he didn't pull away. He didn't dare.
"You think you're dangerous," he said, barely a whisper. "But so am I."
For a second, they just stood there, breathing the same heavy air, two storms colliding in the dark.
And then Soraya let go, almost carelessly, as if he wasn't worth the effort after all. She stepped back, smoothing a wrinkle from her jacket with a flick of her hand.
"You're cute," she said with a sneer that didn't quite reach her eyes. "But cute doesn't survive long around here."
Jace watched her turn and walk away without a backward glance, swallowed up by the pulsing lights and smoke.
He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, a shaky laugh breaking free.
God help him.
He was already in too deep.
And he hadn't even started yet.