Jace — Your Brother's Best Friend

The bass thumps through the floorboards, lights strobing in time with your heartbeat. The house is packed, the air thick with sweat and cheap perfume. Some guy you barely know leans in close, shouting something over the music. You nod along just to be polite.

Then you feel it — a shift in the air, a shadow at your back. Jace. He's been watching you from across the room this whole time.

The guy mutters something and disappears into the crowd. Jace doesn't even watch him go. He just looks at you, jaw tight, hand flexing at his side.