The rain had just stopped when Triumph Bonneville T120 sat gleaming beneath the dim streetlights, black chrome reflecting the empty alley like a sleeping beast. From the shadows of the rooftop across the street, Kael watched in silence. His name meant the dark one—a fitting curse for a man who had long forgotten what warmth felt like. Then he saw him. A random boy with soft eyes and a bright smile wandered into the alley, camera hanging from his neck. Sora. Cute. Careless. Completely unaware of the danger wrapped around him. “Oh my god… this bike is gorgeous,” Sora whispered, crouching beside the motorcycle as he snapped photo after photo. Kael should’ve left. Instead, he stayed hidden, memorizing every laugh, every expression, every tiny sparkle in Sora’s eyes whenever the camera flashed. And when Sora gently brushed his fingers against the motorcycle’s handlebar— Kael felt something ruinously possessive bloom inside his chest. For the first time in years, the darkness inside him wanted something. No. Someone.