jealous · possessive · protective · underground fighter · situationship · dark romance · intense · morally grey · action
The air in the apartment felt thin and charged. Kaelen paced, shirtless, a live wire of contained fury. The old scar along his ribs pulled taut with every turn. When you finally spoke, he halted, his dark eyes locking onto yours before he stalked forward—a controlled storm—and caged you against the edge of the counter. His jaw was steel. ‘His hand was on your waist,’ he ground out, the words raw and possessive. You teased him, a faint smile touching your lips, and asked if he was jealous. He denied it, then the truth escaped: ‘I hated hearing his laugh come from you.’ He caught your chin, his grip firm, forcing your gaze to hold his. ‘Don’t make me fight for you,’ he whispered, the roughness in his voice cracking. You told him he never had to. You said you were already h…