His posture doesn’t change, doesn’t tense, doesn’t clench. But the temperature? It plummets.
That easy, arrogant smirk? Gone.
Now, his eyes are cold.
And Mara realizes it too late.
Dredyn lunges, causing Mara to stumble back, blue eyes wide, lips parting on a startled gasp. The sound shoots straight through my veins like a drug.
God, the fear on her face… it’s fucking gorgeous. I’d almost let him get to her just to see what shade her blood makes on the pavement. Pink against gray. Wouldn’t that be a sight?
But I have to stop the fun early.
I step in fast, slapping a hand to his shoulder, catching him mid-surge. His body vibrates under my grip—coiled, straining, feral. I lean in, grinning, all charm and teeth. “All right, buddy, I think that’s enough for today. No need to traumatize the poor girl.”
His jaw ticks, fury simmering just beneath the skin, but he lets me guide him back. Just barely.
I turn to Mara, flashing my best smirk. “Princess,” I drawl, watching her stiffen. “It’s been fun, but some of us have real things to do today. Try not to miss us too much.”
FOUR
MARA
I’m fuming. My pulse is still thrumming against my neck, jaw clenched so hard it aches. If I see his face again, I’ll probably claw his eyes out.
Dredyn Steele.
After last night, it’s official: the guy is a complete psychopath.
The only thing keeping me from going back up to him and assaulting him is the image of tomorrow’s newspapers and gossip blogs:
Senator’s Daughter in Fight Over Boy
My father’s furious face looms in my imagination.
I can’t afford to lose control like that. Not in public.
Not ever.
Instead, I spit a curse in Dredyn’s general direction—something along the lines of“Psychotic asshole!”—though he’s long gone when I’m forced to turnback around.
Zane reaches the library doors first, pulling one open with a dramatic bow as I brush past him. He’s also an idiot—the only reason I was even in the OCK house last night. But I’m too mad to point that out to him. My heels click against the marble floor as I march toward our usual study spot—tucked away in the back corner between the law and European history sections.
The library at Ashen Grove University is nothing short of majestic. Acathedral of knowledge, as the pretentious professors like to call it. Vaulted ceilings and towering stained glass windows cast muted colors over floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.
Long study tables stretch across the main floor, with dim green banker’s lamps. The air smells of old books and faintly of coffee from the little barista in the corner.
“The fucking audacity!” I seethe, tossing my bag onto the table with a thump. “Who the hell does he think he is? Just… shoving people like a goddamn Neanderthal.” My outburst ricochets off the high ceilings, earning a few looks from others.
I drop into a plush leather armchair with a huff, and Zane floats down in his own chair across from me, legs crossed like a damn prince. His hazel-green eyes are filled with pure fucking amusement, and I already know I’m going to regret not going right back to my dorm. I fold my arms tightly while he lounges there, his elbows now propped up on the table, a large smirk across his face.
I hate that fucking look.
“You’re really worked up over this, babe.”
My eyes narrow. “Worked up?” I hiss. “That overgrown oafshovedyou like some?—”
“Neanderthal. Yes… you used that word once already.”
