Jasper’s hands fly sharp and fast.“She’s not a prize. She’s a fucking person.”
“I’m not saying she’s a prize,” I snarl. “I’m saying we can share her.”
“I want nothing to do with this.”Jasper leaves, limping toward the hall. The door swings shut behind him.
“Yeah, you can keep thinking that, but I’m gonna go see my girlfriend since apparently she’s a little shaken up.”
FOURTEEN
DREDYN
It’s been a week since the library. A week since I beat the shit out of my best friend and Mara ran from me like I was her worst nightmare.
Maybe I am.
But what eats at me more than that? What keeps my fists clenched and my jaw aching from how often I grind my teeth?
Talon.
Talon, playing pretend like he was born for it. Escorting Mara to every class like a damn golden retriever. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders like she’s his.
And I have to watch it. Every. Fucking. Day.
Not because I care about some PTO assholes or giving her daddy’s campaign a stroke. If anything, I like that she’s pissing them off. Let the good senator choke on it.
But because Talon made me swear I wouldn’t go near her.
His words were, “Whatever’s happening between us? It’s fake, Dre. Fun. She needs the cover. That’s it.”
Fake.
Then why the hell does it feel so real?
Why does it look like he’s enjoying it?
Why does she laugh like that with him when she never gave me more than a glare and a bitten lip?
I’ve been pacing this house like a fucking caged animal, clenching my jaw every time I catch the scent of her perfume lingering on Talon’s hoodie. Gripping my phone like I might snap it in half every time I see another post with them side by side, her in that damn sweater I want to rip off with my teeth.
She asked him to be the weapon. Not me.
But if Talon thinks I’m going to sit on the sidelines much longer while he plays Prince Charming in a war I was born to win, he’s out of his fucking mind.
The fight club is on the edge of campus. It used to be an old, condemned boxing gym that was converted into an underground fight arena. Yeah AGU has sports, and we’re pretty good at them, but there’s just something about two men battling it out in a ring with no rules that feels … primal.
I shoulder through the entrance behind Beck, Knox, CJ, and Rook, underneath the rusted metal beams that stretch overhead. The ring is lit by buzzing floodlights; a fight is already in motion. Two guys are pounding the shit out of each other while the crowd howls. Bleachers line three walls, packed with students. Each one is dedicated to a frat section.
As we step into the OCK section, a few of the other brothers yell, “Dredyn!” They’re eager for my fight tonight. Eager to see me in action.
I throw a grin at the people yelling at me, but my eyes scan the other side, my eyes skipping over faces until—there. Mara.
She’s perched on the second row of bleacher benches in Psi Theta Omega’s section. She’s wearing a simple black top and dark jeans, her long hair pulled back in a high ponytail, exposing the elegant line of her neck.
But her chin lifts, her eyes locking with mine. And just like that, the noise and chaos around me fades to a dull roar in my ears. It’s just her and I, staring each other down. I half expect herto look away—maybe she’s still furious or terrified after what I did in the library. But she doesn’t. She holds my gaze.
Something ignites in my chest at that. Heat blooms under my skin. Whether it’s anger, defiance, or something else in her eyes, I don’t care. She’s here, just as I was hoping she would be. I wonder if Talon’s here yet. Is he planning on making her come sit with OCK? I wonder if he’ll get pissed when I do what I came to do.
Beside Mara, her twin brother Milo shifts, noticing where her attention has gone. Instantly, he glares daggers at me, putting a protective arm around her shoulders. A slow, humorless smile tugs at my lips.
