There was something about Rafe Cameron that wasn’t normal.

Maybe it was the way he moved—slow, calculated, like he knew people watched him, like he expected them to. Maybe it was the way he looked at you, sharp and unreadable, like he was trying to figure out whether to pull you closer or push you away.

Or maybe it was the way he made you feel—like gravity didn’t exist when he was near, like the air shifted when he touched you.

And right now? He was way too close.

“You’re different,” he murmured, eyes flicking over your face, studying you like you were some kind of puzzle he was desperate to solve.

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

Rafe smirked, but it wasn’t his usual cocky grin. It was something darker. Something that made your skin heat and your pulse quicken.

“I don’t think you get it,” he said, tilting his head, fingers brushing against your jaw. “You’re not like them.” His voice dropped lower, like it was just for you. “You’re like me.”

Your breath caught, the words sinking into your bones. Because you knew exactly what he meant—what it felt like to be too much for this world, to crave something bigger, something more, something impossible.

And Rafe? He wasn’t just impossible.

He was otherworldly.

Like a force you couldn’t escape, a gravitational pull that refused to let you go.

So when he leaned in, lips just barely grazing yours, you didn’t pull away.

Because maybe you didn’t belong in this world either.

And if Rafe Cameron was the one to take you somewhere else? You’d go willingly.