I have nothing left when I walk into Oath MMA-just a duffel bag, bruises I don't want to explain, and a desperate need to prove I'm more than the violence I left behind.

What I find are four men who see straight through my carefully constructed walls.

Eli Morgan. Cruz Bennett. Brady Williams. Dante Rossi.

My coaches. My training partners. Four fighters who were supposed to keep it professional, keep their distance, keep their hands to themselves.

But obsession doesn't follow rules.

The heat between us builds with every sparring session, every lingering touch, every look that lasts too long. And it's not just me they want. The tension crackling between them-the way Cruz watches Eli, the way Brady's control fractures around Dante, the way they all orbit each other like planets pulled by the same gravity-ignites something none of us can control.

When the lines blur beyond recognition, we stop pretending. Stop fighting it. Stop caring about what we're supposed to be.

Five people. One impossible hunger. A love so raw and consuming it rewrites every rule we thought we knew.

In the cage, there are rules. Outside of it, there is only us.