Yes, I want you. Make me yours.
I try to shake the breathy, lust drunk words from my head.
I’m doing my best to outrun the memory before Monday classes start in a few hours.
The beauty of my new surroundings soothes me, and I put in an extra mile so I can enjoy the peace and quiet of the riverside path at dawn.
The dark water of the River Ouse churns to my left, and I duck under the draping, verdant branches of ancient willows as I slow my pace to gasp in fresh oxygen. I’m only fifteen minutes from York city center, but it’s as though I’ve stepped into adifferent world: a secret woodland haven that’s a balm to my soul.
I shake off budding memories of a different woodland scene—the one I raced through in the darkness on that night when I was still living in the hell that was my foster home.
I glance up and soak in the early sunlight that filters through the bright green leaves.
Safe,I remind myself.
I left that scared girl behind as soon as I turned eighteen and claimed the inheritance my parents left me. It was enough to buy my new identity and pay for my education. Funds are running low now, but I’m determined to get by so that I can finish my MA.
I glance at my watch. It’s past time to return to my flat and get ready for my first class.
Increasing my pace, I leave the peace of the willows behind and race towards my new life.
Two hours later, I’ve showered and changed into my usual jeans and a pale green blouse. It’s a casual but polished look, designed to blend in while appearing put together.
I pull my worn leather bag with my books and laptop higher on my shoulder and step through the iron gates that surround King’s Manor: the centuries-old stone building that houses the Centre for Early Medieval Studies.
It takes me a few minutes to navigate the repurposed manor and find my lecture hall, but I manage to get there before class starts.
Amala, a pretty young woman with a thick black braid and a broad smile, gives me a little wave, indicating that I should sit by her. Rich turns to look in the direction of her wave, and he shoots me a boyish grin.
I suppress a wince. I’d hoped his flirtatious advances at the pub after orientation had been influenced by the many pints heordered, but I’m familiar with the way his gaze flicks over me as I approach. It’s not a blatant, disrespectful assessment, but there’s definite interest sparking in his blue eyes.
I return their smiles but choose to sit beside Amala instead of Rich. I’m happy to be friendly, but I don’t want to give him the wrong impression. I never date, and the few men who’ve shown interest have ghosted me, anyway.
It’s safer to maintain my distance. I have too many aspirations for trivial distractions like boys.
And I have Bones. No man could come close to fulfilling my darkest fantasies the way he does.
I drag my thoughts away from the painful fallout after our kinky hunt and focus on my classmates.
“We missed you at the club last night,” Amala says when I slide into my seat. “I wish you would’ve come out and danced with us.”
“Yeah,” Rich adds. “They had three-for-six tequila shots. We should go again next week.”
I shake my head with a rueful smile. “I don’t do shots. Especially not the night before classes start. I can’t believe you two aren’t hungover right now.”
Rich chuckles and shakes his blond head. “Are you that much of a lightweight? You’ll have to hold your drink better if you’re going to live in England.”
“Don’t pressure her,” Amala admonishes, then turns her dark brown eyes on me. “Just dancing next time. You don’t have to do shots if you don’t want to.”
“Thanks,” I say sincerely. “That sounds fun.”
“Or we can do karaoke!” she enthuses. “We can go sometime when we don’t have class the next day.”
“That sounds great,” I reply. “If you’re willing to put up with my terrible singing.”
“It’s all about the performance,” Rich interjects. “You have to have passion.”
His eyes pin me on the last, and I pretend not to notice.
