My boots hit the concrete floor and I stride straight toward the Psi Theta Omega section of the bleachers, ignoring the pats on the back and outstretched hands of congratulatory spectators.
People get out of my way quickly when they catch sight of my face. Whatever they see there has them parting like the Red Sea.
Mara.
Mara.
Mara.
Her name is thunder in my head, echoing with each heartbeat. She’s halfway down the bleacher steps now, dragged by Milo’s grip on her wrist as he tries to hustle her away. Probably the smart move—she just watched me demolish a guy in a frighteningly brutal fashion.
If she had any sense, she’d run from me.
If I had any sense, I’d let her go.
But Mara, my little hellion Mara, yanks her arm free of her brother’s grasp. “I can walk myself, Milo!” I catch her shouting over the noise. She’s fucking pissed at him for manhandling her.
Milo rounds on her, exasperated. “This isn’t the place, Mara! We need to go—now.”
He tries to reach for her again, but she steps back, right into Zane, who steadies her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.
I’m at the bottom of their bleacher section now. A few PTOguys see me coming and instinctively form a barrier at the foot of the steps—three of them I think, but it doesn’t matter.
One shoves me, and I slam him back so hard he bowls into his buddies like fucking dominoes. I hear theoofsas they topple into each other.
Not one of them is dumb enough to get back up and in my way.
Milo sees me coming and bares his teeth, dropping off the lowest bleacher step like he’s some guard dog, even though he’s half a foot shorter, leaner, and stupidly stubborn.
“Back the fuck off, Dredyn!” he barks, slamming a hand into my chest as if that’ll stop me. His other arm spreads wide, blocking Mara behind him.
Zane steps in front of me. “Dredyn, big guy, let’s cool off?—”
I didn’t come here to talk.
My hand shoots out, clamping onto Zane’s shoulder. With one vicious yank, I drag him out of my path, shoving him sideways into Milo so they crash together. Both of them grunt, stumbling into the bleacher rail.
Now there’s nothing between me and Mara.
She’s frozen on the last step, bag trembling in her hand. Just me and her, a breath apart.
I drink in the sight of her. Those icy blue eyes locked on me, her chest rising and falling as she struggles to catch her breath. A tiny part of me registers the absolute scandalized silence that’s fallen over the area immediately around us—PTO and OCK and all the spectators staring in astonishment.
But my world has narrowed to just Mara.
Her lips part, maybe to say my name, maybe to protest. I don’t give her the chance. I scoop her up into my arms in one swift motion.
She squeaks in surprise as her feet leave the floor. In half of a second, I’ve got one arm hooked under the bend of her knees, the other bracing her back. I lift her against my chest.
She’s nothing in my arms—nothing but precious, that is.
“Dredyn! What are you—Put me down!” she bursts out, voice high with alarm and anger. She squirms in my hold, kicking her legs, but my grip is iron. She’s not going anywhere unless I let her.
I incline my head, eyes blazing into hers. “Not a chance,” I growl under my breath.
By now, Milo has recovered. “Get your hands off my sister, you psycho!” he shouts, grabbing for Mara’s arm to pull her out of my grasp. I twist away, keeping Mara out of his reach and pivoting my body so I take the brunt of his attempt. His fist smacks hard against my shoulder in a half-punch. I barely feel it before throwing him a murderous glare.
“Back off, Milo,” I warn. “She’s Omega Chi’s now. Stamp that in your memory”
