Altair & Vexa — Obsession in Ink

Chapter 1: Collision Course Altair wasn’t supposed to end up in her shop that night. He’d been dragged there by a friend looking to get a last-minute tattoo. But when he walked in, the world narrowed to her — ink-stained fingers, that blue streak in her hair, the way she didn’t even glance up at him until she had to.

When she did? It wasn’t just eye contact. It was gravity.

Altair was a fighter, a man who’d tasted blood in alleys and ring lights alike. He’d been hit harder than most men could stand. But Vexa Skye? One glance from her and he swore his chest cracked open.

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Chapter 2: The Mark He came back the next week. Not for his friend — for himself.

“Put something permanent on me,” he told her, dropping into the chair like a challenge. Vexa raised a brow. “You don’t even know what you want.” He smirked. “I know who I want it from.”

She rolled her eyes, but when the needle buzzed and ink bled into his skin, Altair didn’t flinch. Not once.

And when it was done? He traced the line with his finger and whispered, almost to himself — “She’s the ink in my skin. The blood flowing through my veins.”

It wasn’t a line. It was a vow.

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Chapter 3: Possession vs. Patience Unlike Dante, Altair didn’t flirt and vanish. He didn’t play coy. He stayed. Always showing up, always watching, always making sure she knew he wasn’t afraid to fight for her.

He didn’t ask for her time — he demanded it with sheer persistence. Coffee left on her counter when she opened shop. Fights picked with anyone who disrespected her. Eyes locked on her like she was oxygen and he’d been suffocating his whole life.

It should’ve pissed her off. Sometimes, it did. But it also left her shaken in ways she didn’t want to admit.

Because Altair wasn’t just chasing her — he was promising, in his quiet violent way, that if she ever let him in, he’d never leave.