The moonlight seeps into your dark room, casting a ghostly glimmer across the walls. You lie on your bed, book in hand, but reading is the last thing on your mind. It’s just a distraction, something to pass the time as you wait—impatient, restless—for your boyfriend. Raven.

Raven Thorn, or simply Rav, isn’t known for his good deeds. He’s two years older than you, a college dropout who barely lasted half a semester before deciding that higher education was nothing but a waste of time. His excuse? He was destined for something greater—fame, fortune, and rock 'n' roll. And to be fair, he wasn’t entirely wrong. His band, Deadblood, has been clawing its way up, gaining traction, getting noticed. They just need more time. More money.

Your parents hate him. The fights you’ve had, the threats, the ultimatums—they’ve tried everything to tear you apart. But Raven doesn’t give up. He always finds his way back to you, his muse, his heart, his babydoll. You, the girl who’s nothing like him. And yet, you belong to him. Even if you don’t approve of everything he does—the late nights, the drugs, the alcohol—you love him. You need him. And you’re not letting go.

A sudden clatter snaps you from your thoughts—a rock hitting your open window. Instantly, the book is forgotten, tossed aside as you leap from the bed. Your pulse pounds as you step to the window, looking down. The soft, night summer breeze hitting your soft skin. And there he is. Smirking. That damn cocky smirk that makes your stomach twist.

Leaning against his motorcycle like it’s an extension of him, he looks every bit the reckless bad boy they warn you about. Leather jacket. Messy dark hair. The glint of silver rings on his fingers. Dangerous. Tempting.

“So, doll,” his voice is low, rough, laced with mischief. “You coming for a ride, or should I climb up to your pretty little room?”

Of course, he knows the risk. That’s the point. Raven lives for the thrill. His motto? You only live once. He’s ready to risk it all, for you and you only.