Page 35 of Property of Scar

The room is loud in that loose, familiar way that comes from people who have spent enough time together to stop watching what they say. Not the loud of a threat, but the loose, sprawling noise of a family that has no idea it’s being watched. Voices layered over voices, the crack of a beer cap, someone’s fist hitting the table hard enough to rattle the cutlery, followed by boisterous laughter.

I keep my back to the wall.

Raze is at the head of the table, one arm loose around Roxy’s shoulders, the other wrapped around his beer like it’s been there all night. He doesn’t ask, just pulls her into his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and she goes with a laugh that tries to stay quiet and fails somewhere halfway through, her hand bracing on his shoulder as she settles against him.

He leans in without hesitation, mouth brushing her temple, his voice dropping low enough that it should disappear into the noise of the room, into the steady hum of conversation, movement, and the easy chaos of the clubhouse at full volume, but it doesn’t.

“I can still smell you on me from this morning,” Raze murmurs, rough and unhurried, like he knows exactly what it’s going to do to her. “Thought about it all damn day.”

The reaction is immediate. Roxy’s breath catches, just enough to be noticeable if you’re looking for it, her shoulders tightening under his hand as heat rises fast along her skin, the firelight catching the edge and softening it without quite managing to hide it.

The rest of the table picks up on that much, of course. There are grins, a few low comments thrown across the space, the kind of reaction that comes from knowing something was said without having access to what it actually was.

But the rest of them didn’t hear it.

The words themselves never reached them because Raze had spoken so low that only Roxy could hear. But my sensitive dhampir ears pick up things more clearly than most.

The realization settles in slowly once I register how clearly I heard him from across the room. Every word is sharp enough to land clean where I’m sitting.

Vampire hearing.

Of course.

And before I even look, I know I’m not the only one.

My attention shifts, drawn not by movement but by something more precise, something that feels a little too close to instinct, and when I glance up, Scar is already watching me.

There’s no surprise in his expression, just that same controlled stillness he carries through everything, and beneath it, something quieter, something that acknowledges the moment without needing to make a show of it. The faintest shift at the corner of his mouth follows, not quite a smile but enough to confirm what doesn’t need to be said.

He heard every word.

I know it the same way I know he knows, because I heard it too.

Nothing changes on the surface. The clubhouse dining room stays loud around us, brothers talking over each other, cutlery scraping across plates, chairs dragging against the floor while somebody argues about beer near the kitchen.

But the space between us shifts anyway. Like something invisible just locked into place.

The same hearing with unnatural clarity. The same awareness of exactly what passed between us, without anybody else in the room understanding.

And underneath that?

Something else settles deeper.

Something that feels a hell of a lot more dangerous because it keeps lingering long after it should have passed.

As much as we try to ignore it, we are the same kind of monster.

I hold his gaze a second longer than necessary, long enough to confirm it, before I look away again, not out of discomfort, not because I have to, but because choosing to end the moment feels like the only way to keep control of it.

The table erupts. Someone makes a noise like a dying cat. Ruckus bangs his beer down in theatrical approval, grinning like he’s been waiting years to see something, and he’s finally getting it.

I watch Roxy hide her face against Raze’s shoulder, laughing under her breath while he looks down at her with that rough-edged softness he only seems capable of around her.

Something tightens unexpectedly in my chest at the sight.

Not pain.

Not jealousy either.