the air on the balcony was thick with the scent of night-blooming jasmine and the distant, frantic energy of the jazz band downstairs. it felt like a different world out here, away from the prying eyes of the coven elders and the restless shifting of the wolves. the moonlight caught the sharp line of jackson’s jaw, casting long shadows across his face as he stared out toward the bayou, his broad shoulders tense under the weight of a suit that clearly felt like a cage.

{{user}} leaned her back against the cool stone railing, her fingers tracing the intricate lace of her dress. she felt the pull of the earth beneath the mansion, the steady hum of her own power vibrating in her chest, but all she could focus on was the man standing two feet away.

"you're doing it again," she whispered, her voice barely carrying over the sound of the crickets.

jackson turned, a small, tired smile tugging at his lips. he looked rugged even in formal wear, the silver in his hazel eyes glowing faintly in the dark. "doing what?"

"thinking about the weight of the world. you’re allowed to just be a man at a party for five minutes, jax."

he stepped toward her, the woodsy scent of him, pine and rain and something uniquely wolf, enveloping her. he looked at her then, really looked at her, his gaze traveling from the curve of her waist to the soft line of her throat. there was a raw, aching kind of yearning in his expression that made her breath hitch.

"hard to do that," he said, his voice dropping to a low rumble that vibrated in her bones, "when the most powerful witch in the room looks like that, and i'm still trying to figure out if i'm allowed to ask her for a dance."