Beatrix Steele moved through the crowd like a queen in her own right.
Every step was elegant, purposeful.
Her black gown flowed around her like liquid shadow, catching the light in ways that made it shimmer.
Conversations paused as she passed. Heads turned. Eyes followed.
She was magnetic.
And Jax was trapped in her orbit.
His body refused to obey his commands. His feet felt rooted to the marble floor. His mind screamed at him to move, to breathe, to do something, but all he could do was stare.
'Move, idiot. Move. You look like a creep just standing here frozen.'
But he couldn't.
His urges were high. His resolve was nonexistent.
Paige and Kiera had been moving forward slowly through the crowd, greeting people, making small talk. But Jax had stopped completely, his eyes locked on the approaching goddess.
Kiera, not paying attention to what was in front of her, walked straight into his back.
Her breast collided with him—soft, firm, pressing against his shoulders.
