My hands are shaking slightly and I put my fork down before I drop it. "This is a mistake."
"No, it's not." He reaches across the table and touches my hand briefly. Just his fingers brushing mine for a second, but the contact sends sparks up my arm. "How are you feeling? Really."
"Exhausted. Hungry. Overwhelmed."
"That's normal after heat." His voice drops lower, meant just for me. "It takes a toll on your body."
"You would know?"
"I'm Alpha. I pay attention to pack dynamics." He leans back in his chair, casually oozing confidence like he doesn't have the entire dining hall staring at us. "And you're part of a pack now, whether you wanted it or not."
"Because you claimed me in front of Chase."
"Because you're mine to protect." He pauses. "Among other things."
The weight of that statement settles between us. Mine. He's not just talking about a pack protection anymore and we both know it.
I force myself to eat something. The food tastes like cardboard but I manage a few bites while Caspian watches me with unsettling focus.
"You need to eat more than that," he says.
"I'm trying."
"Try harder. You're going to need your strength."
"For what?"
"For everything that comes next." He stands, picks up his tray. "I have class. Walk you there after?"
"I can walk myself."
"I know. But I'm asking anyway." He waits patiently, letting me choose.
I nod. Small concession but it feels enormous.
He smirks and walks away, back to his table where his Dominion members are staring at him like he's lost his mind. I watch him go and try to ignore the weight of every eye in the room now focused on me.
I just became the center of campus politics and I didn't even do anything.
History class is torture.
Julian stands at the front of the room lecturing about territorial expansion and I sit in the back row trying to focus on his words instead of the mate bond humming between us. Last night's heat flooding through our connection must have been torture for him. I felt his restraint pulling tight through the bond, how he fought to stay away even while feeling everything I was experiencing. Even now I can sense the residual tension in him, the careful control he's maintaining.
His eyes sweep the room and pause on me for just a fraction of a second longer than anyone else. No one would notice unless they were looking for it.
I notice. And the bond flares in response.
"The Council's formation in 1847 marked a significant shift," he says, voice perfectly measured and professional. "Prior to centralized authority, the pack territories operated independently with varying degrees of success."
The lecture continues and I take notes mechanically, writing down dates and names without really processing them. All I can think about is how he felt me through the bond. How he knowsexactly what happened with Caspian even though I haven't said a word.
When class ends, I'm the first one out the door.
I make it halfway down the hall before I hear footsteps behind me.
"Miss Bardot."
I stop and turn. Julian is standing a careful distance away, briefcase in hand, every inch the professional professor. But I can see the tension in his shoulders, the tightness around his eyes.
