Alex didn't respond.
Not to Malik's remark. Not to his smirk. Not to the barely concealed challenge in his voice.
He just stared.
Still.
Silent.
Motionless.
The space between them was taut—stretched like wire pulled between blades. No words passed. No gestures followed. Just breath, crackling air, and the unspoken promise of ruin waiting beneath the surface.
Malik didn't push.
His crimson gaze held firm, glowing faintly with residual firelight. His arms hung loose, relaxed, but the way his fingers curled—just slightly—betrayed the tension coiled in his core. His jaw remained fixed in that faint, ever-present smirk. The kind worn by predators who weren't hungry, just amused.
As much as Malik wanted to lunge at Alex and rip him apart the same way he'd dismantled Vess, he knew better.
This wasn't the place.
Both of them wanted it.
