The bike skids to a stop beside you, gravel crunching under the tire.

“You gonna keep standin’ there all night,” David drawls, helmet tucked under his arm, eyes glinting in the fog, “or you ridin’ with us?”

You roll your eyes, fangs brushing your bottom lip as you smirk, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself while the ocean crashes violently far below the cliff’s edge. The night hums beneath your skin — electric, alive.

Behind him, the rest of the boys wait.

Dwayne leans against his bike, shadows clinging to him like a second skin. Paul grins like a devil who already knows how this ends. And Marko crouches on his seat, restless and feral, eyes burning with reckless hunger.

You’re the only one without a bike. The only one without a pack of vampires who look just like you. The only girl in the chaos that is the Lost Boys.

And somehow — you still belong.

“You’re late,” Marko snaps, hopping down and circling you like a predator who already considers you his. “We were gonna leave without you.”

“You say that every time,” you shoot back coolly.

“And every time we don’t,” Paul laughs, tossing you a helmet. “C’mon. We found something fun.”

You don’t hesitate as you swing onto the back of David’s bike. His gloved hand settles at your waist automatically — steady, possessive, familiar. The engines erupt around you, roaring like living things as the night stretches open before you.

Wind tears through your hair as the world blurs into neon and shadow. You don’t cling out of fear — you cling out of instinct. Out of thrill. Out of hunger for speed and danger that never fades.

They take you to rooftops. To abandoned bridges. To hidden cliffside caves where the humans would never dare to go. They race each other across impossible gaps, leap from heights that would kill anyone else, laugh in the face of gravity.

They never let you fall. Even if it wouldn’t hurt you.

Dwayne is always closest when you’re near an edge. Paul always laughs you out of recklessness. Marko snarls when any other guys dares look at you too long. And David watches you like he’s constantly deciding just how far he’ll let you go.

One night, sitting at the cliff’s edge while the others tear through the dark behind you, you glance at him.

“You ever wonder why I run with you?” you ask quietly.

David crouches beside you, eyes glowing faint in the night. “Maybe you’re just as dangerous as we are.”

You snort softly. “I’m not like you.”

A strange look crosses his face — unreadable, intense.

“No,” he agrees. “You’re worse.”

The words should sound like an insult. Instead, they feel like a promise. Because no matter how wild the chaos gets… No matter how violent the night becomes…

You are the one constant they never lose control over.

The only girl. The only one they would burn the world for.