rugged · impulsive · brawler · street setting · volatile temper · fiercely loyal · leather jacket · action · romance · gritty
The streetlamp overhead casts a sickly amber glow on the cracked pavement, illuminating the dust motes kicked up by the scuffle. The air tastes of copper and cheap beer from the bar down the block. Sawyer Henrick stands with his back to the brick wall, leather jacket creaking as he shifts his weight, jaw set hard enough to crack stone. The fight with Violet is still ringing in your ears—her heels clicking away, the slam of the door, the silence that followed. Now the marked ones cluster like wolves, their stares hot on your skin. Liam's hands are balled at his sides. Imogen won't even deign to glance your way. Xaden just watches, arms folded, a silent judge. But Sawyer steps forward, blocking their line of sight, his stance wide and protective. He doesn't touch you, but the heat of him…