He was crossing the dining hall, weaving between tables with focused purpose. His eyes found mine, and I saw the question in them before he reached us.
"Hey." He stopped beside our table, his hand finding my shoulder. "You okay?"
"I'm fine."
"Liar." His voice was gentle but firm. "I felt you through the bond. Something's wrong."
Ivy stood. "I'm going to get more pie. Take your time."
She disappeared before I could stop her.
James slid into her vacated seat, his knee pressing against mine under the table. The contact helped—steadied something that had been spinning loose inside me.
"Talk to me," he said.
So I did.
I told him about Stone. The memories surfacing, the trauma bleeding through the bond, the white rooms and restraints and pain. I told him about sitting on the floor while Stone fell apart, about telling him to ask for help.
James listened without interrupting. His hand found mine under the table, fingers intertwining, anchor and comfort and presence all at once.
When I finished, he was quiet for a moment.
"Come with me," he said.
"Where?"
"My room." He stood, pulled me up with him. "You need to get out of your head for a while. Let me help."
James's room was warm.
He didn't just close the door. He locked it.
"Sit."
I sank onto the edge of the mattress. My legs felt like jelly.
He stepped between my knees, forcing them apart, standing flush against me. Even through his jeans, I could feel him—thick, hard, pressing against my stomach.
My breath hitched.
"You're overthinking." His hands slid into my hair, gripped tight enough to make my eyes flutter. "I can feel your pulse jumping. I can feel how much you're hurting." His voice dropped. "Let me give you something else to feel."
His mouth crashed onto mine.
Not a question. A takeover. His tongue swept inside, demanding and hungry, and I groaned against him. My hands found his ass, pulled him closer. I needed that hardness. Needed something solid and real.
"James." I whined it against his lips. My hips tilted up, seeking him.
"I know." The growl vibrated through his chest. "Want you so damn bad, Lumi."
He pulled back. Yanked my shirt over my head. My bra followed.
His eyes went dark. Pupils blown wide as he stared at me.
"Look at you," he whispered.
He dropped to his knees.
