EIRA'S POV
Oh, God. Why did mornings have to arrive so ridiculously early?
I grumbled at my reflection while brushing my teeth, my mind already occupied with the one person I desperately needed to avoid thinking about.
Adrian Blake.
Would he come to college today?
Would he finally answer my questions?
It had been fifteen days since the abduction, and I hadn't seen him in a single lecture. Not once.
Fifteen days of unanswered questions, restless nights, and an increasingly irritating curiosity about a man who seemed to consider basic human decency beneath him.
Why am I even wasting my time thinking about him?
I spat out the toothpaste, grabbed my bag, and hurried out.
Damn it. I was late!
The first lecture was biology, and I practically sprinted toward the classroom, my attention fixed on the doorway.
I never saw the person standing in front of it.
I collided with something solid and stumbled backward, landing hard on the floor.
"Ouch!"
"Fascinating."
I froze at the familiar, dripping-with-contempt voice.
"Some people actually manage to walk through a doorway without attacking it. You might want to try that sometime."
I looked up.
Adrian.
Of course.
Fifteen days. Fifteen entire days without a glimpse of him, and the first thing he did upon reappearing was insult me.
He stood over me with his hands in his pockets, looking thoroughly unimpressed. The faint smirk on his lips made me want to throw my bag at his annoyingly perfect face.
"Could you at least help me up?" I snapped.
He glanced at me, then at my outstretched hand.
"Did you break both your legs, or are you always this helpless?"
My mouth fell open.
"You—"
"Move. You're blocking the entrance."
He stepped around me without offering so much as a hand.
I scrambled to my feet, my cheeks burning.
Arrogant, insufferable jerk.
But I wasn't going to let him escape that easily.
"Adrian, wait!"
He stopped, his shoulders stiffening slightly before he turned his head toward me.
"What now?"
I hurried closer.
"I wanted to ask you something."
"How unfortunate for me."
I ignored the remark, gritting my teeth.
"That night, when we were surrounded by the wolves… how did you make them run away?"
His expression went still.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Not a word.
His eyes settled on mine, unreadable and cold, and the faint amusement disappeared from his face.
I waited.
Perhaps he was finally going to explain what had happened.
Perhaps—
"Adrian?" I tried again. "I'm asking how you—"
"Do you have a hearing problem, or are you simply incapable of understanding when someone doesn't want to talk to you?"
I stared at him.
He adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder, his expression returning to its usual infuriating indifference.
"Find someone else to entertain your ridiculous questions, Eira."
"Ridiculous? I'm only asking what happened!"
"And I'm telling you that I don't care to explain it." His eyes narrowed. "Must I spell it out for you?"
My cheeks flushed with anger.
"You don't have to be so rude!"
"Then stop giving me reasons to be."
Before I could respond, he turned and walked into the classroom.
Just like that.
No explanation. No apology. Not even the courtesy of pretending my existence mattered.
I stood in the doorway, staring after him.
Unbelievable.
Utterly unbelievable.
I had a thousand questions about that night, and Adrian Blake seemed determined to make every single one of them a personal offence.
Fine.
He could keep his secrets.
For now.
But someday, I was going to find out what had really happened that night.
And when I did, he wouldn't be able to dismiss me with a sarcastic remark and walk away.
At least, that was what I told myself as I followed him into class.
Because, unfortunately, curiosity had always been my greatest weakness.
And Adrian Blake was quickly becoming its most infuriating subject.
The lecture passed in a blur of half-hearted note-taking and stolen glances at the back of Adrian's head.
He didn't look at me once.
Not once.
He sat with his usual careless composure, one arm resting on the desk, his attention fixed on Mr. Robert as though the rest of the world barely deserved his notice.
I hated how effortlessly he ignored me.
I hated that I noticed.
And I hated, most of all, that fifteen days of not seeing him hadn't made me any less curious about him.
When the lecture ended, I packed my books and hurried out with Tessy.
She was unusually quiet.
Then, halfway down the corridor, she stopped so abruptly that I nearly walked into her.
"What happened?" I asked.
"Nothing."
I narrowed my eyes.
"Tessy."
She looked away, her cheeks turning pink.
"Tessy."
"I'm getting engaged," she blurted.
I stared at her.
Then I grabbed her shoulders.
"WHAT?"
She burst into nervous laughter.
"Keep your voice down!"
"You can't just announce something like that and expect me to behave normally!" I squealed, pulling her into a hug. "Tell me everything. Right now."
"I'm so happy," she whispered, her smile growing wider.
I pulled back to look at her.
"Who is it? Do I know him?"
"Do you know Peter Dawn?"
"Of course! He's a senior. I've seen him in the library."
She nodded shyly.
"He's my boyfriend. We were together in school, too. A few days ago, he proposed, and I said yes. Our parents have agreed to the engagement. After college, we'll get married."
I blinked, trying to process the news.
My best friend was getting engaged.
Tessy, who could spend an entire evening arguing about fictional couples, steal food from my plate without asking, and cry over the ending of a movie she'd already watched three times.
She was going to marry someone she loved.
I squeezed her hands.
"You deserve all the happiness in the world."
Her eyes softened.
"And you're helping me choose my engagement outfit."
"Obviously. I'm not letting you embarrass yourself on the most important day of your life."
She smacked my arm.
I laughed, and she joined me.
For a little while, the world felt uncomplicated.
I had no idea how quickly that feeling would disappear.
By the time chemistry class began, I was still thinking about Tessy's engagement.
I couldn't stop smiling whenever I imagined her standing beside Peter, looking happier than I'd ever seen her.
Then that familiar sensation crept over my skin.
The unmistakable feeling of being watched.
I shifted in my seat and glanced around.
Students whispered over their notes. Someone near the window was struggling to stay awake. Mr. Robert's equations were still haunting my thoughts.
And Adrian sat several rows away.
His gaze was directed toward the front.
He wasn't looking at me.
At least, not when I checked.
I turned back to my notebook, trying to concentrate, but the feeling persisted.
Every time I moved, I wondered whether his attention had followed me. Every time I glanced over my shoulder, I found myself searching for his eyes.
It was ridiculous.
Perhaps I was imagining things.
Perhaps being ignored by Adrian Blake had finally damaged my sanity.
By the time the lecture ended, I was thoroughly irritated with myself.
Get a grip, Eira.
I gathered my books and headed to the library during the free period.
I needed a medical reference book on the abdomen and lower limbs. Something useful. Something that wouldn't smirk at me, insult my walking skills, or refuse to answer a perfectly reasonable question.
The library was quieter than usual, filled with the soft rustle of pages and occasional whispers.
I searched the shelves until I found the section I needed.
Then I heard a laugh.
A woman's laugh.
It came from the far end of the aisle, low and intimate.
I glanced toward the sound.
Probably another couple hiding from their lectures.
I should have minded my own business.
Instead, curiosity won.
I moved toward the back corner, stepping quietly between the shelves.
And stopped dead.
Peter.
His arms were wrapped around a girl I'd never seen before.
She stood close to him, her fingers resting against his chest while he whispered something into her ear. She giggled, tilting her face toward his.
He smiled at her.
Not the polite smile I'd seen him give Tessy.
Not the respectable, charming smile of a senior preparing to become someone's husband.
This smile was different.
Intimate.
Familiar.
Practised.
My stomach turned.
The books slipped from my hands and struck the floor with a sharp thud.
Both of them looked up.
Peter's smile disappeared for half a second.
Then he recovered.
"I'll meet you later," he murmured to the girl.
She kissed his cheek before walking past me, barely sparing me a glance.
I watched her leave.
Then I looked at him.
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
All I could see was Tessy's smiling face. Her shining eyes. The way she'd squeezed my hands when she told me about the engagement.
You deserve all the happiness in the world.
My fingers curled into fists.
"How could you?"
Peter adjusted his shirt, looking entirely unbothered.
"Excuse me?"
"How could you do this to Tessy?" My voice trembled, but not with fear. "She loves you. She's getting engaged to you!"
He sighed as though I'd interrupted something terribly important.
"I love her, too."
I stared at him.
He actually had the nerve to say it.
"Then what was that?"
His mouth curved into a lazy smirk.
"What can I say? I appreciate beautiful women."
Disgust rose in my throat.
"Then don't marry Tessy. Go marry her."
He shrugged.
"Tessy is marriage material."
I felt sick.
"And the others?"
"Fun."
The word fell between us with such casual cruelty that, for a moment, I couldn't believe I'd heard it.
He wasn't even ashamed.
"You're disgusting."
His smile widened.
"I'm going to tell her everything."
That finally seemed to amuse him.
"Oh? And what exactly makes you think she'll believe you?"
"The truth."
He laughed.
I hated that laugh.
It was smug, condescending, utterly certain that the world would always bend to accommodate him.
He stepped closer.
"You're adorable when you're angry, Eira."
"Stay away from me."
"Why? Afraid?"
I tried to step around him.
He moved with me, blocking my path.
"Let me pass."
"Or what?"
I glared at him.
"Or I'll make sure everyone knows exactly what kind of man you are."
His expression hardened for a fraction of a second before that ugly smile returned.
Then he leaned toward me.
"If you're so interested in my personal life, perhaps you'd like to join me."
His fingers brushed my cheek.
My entire body recoiled.
"Don't touch me!"
I swung my hand toward his face.
He caught my wrist before the slap could land.
The movement was so sudden that I barely understood what had happened.
Then he twisted my arm behind my back.
Pain exploded through my wrist.
A sharp cry escaped me.
"Let go!"
I struggled, trying to wrench myself free, but he tightened his grip and forced me backward until my back struck his chest.
I went rigid.
His breath stirred the hair beside my ear.
"Careful," he murmured. "You're making this much more difficult than it needs to be."
"You're hurting me!"
"Then stop struggling."
I tried anyway.
His grip tightened.
Pain shot up my forearm, and tears sprang to my eyes despite my desperate attempt to hold them back.
"Don't interfere in my life, Eira."
His voice had lost its mocking amusement.
There was something ugly beneath it now.
Something that made my skin crawl.
"Do you understand?"
I clenched my teeth.
He twisted my wrist another fraction.
A strangled sound escaped me.
"Answer me."
"Y-yes."
"Good girl."
The words made my stomach turn.
The instant his grip loosened, I pulled away and stumbled forward, clutching my wrist against my chest.
He straightened his sleeves as though nothing had happened.
Then he walked away.
Just like that.
No apology.
No hesitation.
No sign that he'd done anything wrong.
I stood between the bookshelves, shaking, my wrist throbbing beneath my fingers.
Red marks were already rising against my skin.
I stared at them, barely breathing.
Then Tessy's smiling face flashed through my mind.
I couldn't let him do this to her.
I couldn't.
The next lecture passed in fragments.
Words floated around me without making sense. The lecturer's voice seemed to come from somewhere far away, while every movement of my injured wrist sent another pulse of pain through my arm.
I kept my sleeve pulled down.
I didn't want anyone asking questions.
Especially Tessy.
How was I supposed to tell her that the man she loved had been holding another woman in his arms?
That he had spoken about her as though she were nothing more than a convenient choice?
And how could I tell her that, when I'd threatened to expose him, he'd hurt me without a second thought?
She was so happy.
I couldn't bear the thought of watching that happiness shatter.
But I couldn't lie to her forever, either.
When the lecture finally ended, I gathered my books and stood.
A hand closed around my injured wrist.
I flinched.
My body remembered the library before my mind could catch up.
I jerked back instinctively, but the fingers around my wrist loosened at once.
"Easy."
One word.
Low. Controlled.
I looked up.
Adrian.
He stood beside me, his gaze fixed on my face for a brief second before dropping to my wrist.
His thumb rested lightly against the inside of my arm, nowhere near the worst of the bruising.
The touch was so careful that it felt almost unreal.
I stared at his hand.
Then at him.
He wasn't smirking anymore.
His expression had gone frighteningly still.
"What happened?"
I followed his gaze.
The marks were impossible to hide now that my sleeve had ridden up.
His jaw tightened.
A muscle jumped near his temple.
"Who did this?"
I swallowed.
"It's nothing."
His eyes lifted to mine.
"Did I ask you what it was?"
My lips parted.
Nothing came out.
He turned my wrist slightly, examining the red marks without pressing against them. His fingers were warm against my skin, and I became painfully aware of how close he was standing.
I could have stepped away.
I should have.
Instead, I stood frozen, watching the expression on his face grow darker with every passing second.
"Who," he repeated, each word measured and cold, "did this to you?"
"It doesn't matter to you."
I tried to withdraw my hand.
His fingers opened at once, allowing me to pull away.
But he didn't move aside.
"Look at me, Eira."
I lifted my eyes reluctantly.
There was something terrifying in his expression.
Not the familiar irritation he wore whenever I asked him a question. Not the casual contempt with which he dismissed everyone around him.
This was different.
His eyes were fixed on my bruised wrist, and the fury in them was so intense that I almost forgot to breathe.
For one irrational second, I wondered what would happen if I told him the truth.
Then I remembered Peter's smile.
Do you really think she'll believe you?
And the way he'd twisted my arm until I'd begged him to stop.
I couldn't risk making things worse.
Adrian took a step closer.
"Who hurt you?"
His voice was quiet now.
Somehow, that was worse.
I forced myself to meet his gaze.
"When you refuse to answer my questions, why should I answer yours?"
His eyes narrowed.
For a moment, I thought he might snap at me.
Instead, he looked away, his jaw working as though he were forcing something back.
Then he spoke.
"Haven't you ever watched Discovery Channel?"
I blinked.
"What?"
"When an animal is confronted by something it considers a threat, it watches for signs of fear. If you stand your ground instead of panicking, it may hesitate or retreat."
I stared at him.
My thoughts jumped immediately to that night.
The wolves.
Their growls. Their bared teeth. The way they'd suddenly backed away from him.
"You mean that's how you made them run?"
He gave me a flat look.
"Must I explain every sentence to you?"
I gaped at him.
There he was.
The arrogant, infuriating Adrian I knew.
But my mind had already caught on to something else.
Even if his explanation made sense, how had he stood before an entire pack without a trace of fear? How had he made so many wolves retreat when I could barely think straight in their presence?
My questions multiplied.
He glanced at my wrist again.
"Now answer mine."
My stomach tightened.
What would he do if I told him about Peter?
The thought of Adrian confronting him sent a chill down my spine.
I didn't know what Adrian was capable of. I didn't know what he would do when he was angry.
And after seeing his expression just now, I wasn't sure I wanted to find out.
So I lied.
"Tessy and I had an argument. She accidentally twisted my wrist."
Silence.
Adrian didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Didn't even look away from me.
Then his face changed.
It was subtle, but unmistakable.
His expression hardened, and something cold settled into his eyes.
"Tessy."
He said her name as though he were testing the sound of it against the lie I'd just told him.
I nodded too quickly.
"Yes."
He looked at me for another long second.
Then he moved.
One moment, there was space between us.
The next, my back met the wall.
A startled gasp escaped my lips.
Adrian planted one hand against the wall beside my head.
The other came down on my opposite side, cutting off the space through which I'd instinctively tried to escape.
I froze.
He hadn't touched me.
He didn't need to.
He was close enough that I could see the faint tension in his jaw, the tiny shift of his eyes as they searched my face.
The corridor seemed to fall away around us.
Students were still talking somewhere nearby. Doors opened and closed. Footsteps echoed against the floor.
But all I could register was Adrian.
His shoulders blocked my view of the hallway, and the sharp, clean scent of him filled my senses. When I tried to straighten, I realised just how little room remained between us.
My pulse stumbled.
He noticed.
Of course he noticed.
His gaze flicked briefly toward my throat before returning to my eyes.
"You think I'm stupid?"
His voice was low enough that no one else could hear us.
I shook my head.
"N-no."
"Then stop lying to me."
I pressed my shoulders against the wall, acutely aware of the hard surface behind me and the man standing far too close in front of me.
"You're crowding me," I whispered.
Something flickered across his face.
For one brief moment, his gaze dropped to the hand he had braced beside my head.
Then he looked at me again.
"Answer the question, Eira."
The words were clipped, impatient.
But he didn't move closer.
He simply waited, his dark eyes fixed on mine.
I swallowed.
"I told you what happened."
"No." His jaw tightened. "You told me a story."
My heart began to pound harder.
He leaned forward just enough that I instinctively tipped my chin upward to keep looking at him.
The movement brought us dangerously close.
I could see the faint shadow beneath his eyes, the tension at the corner of his mouth, the restraint in the way he held himself perfectly still.
His gaze dropped to my lips for the briefest instant.
I forgot what I'd been about to say.
Then his eyes returned to mine, colder than before.
"Don't test my patience."
A shiver travelled down my spine.
I hated that my body reacted to him before my mind could catch up.
Hated the way my pulse raced beneath my skin.
Hated that, despite the fear tightening my chest, some foolish part of me was painfully aware of how close he was.
I lifted my chin.
"Why do you even care?"
The question escaped before I could stop it.
Something shifted in his expression.
Not softness.
Adrian Blake didn't do softness.
But for a heartbeat, his composure seemed to strain beneath the weight of something he refused to let me see.
His eyes moved to my wrist again.
When he spoke, his voice was quieter.
"Because someone hurt you."
My breath caught.
He seemed to realise what he'd said at the same moment I did.
His expression hardened instantly.
"And you're a terrible liar."
There he was again, hiding whatever that moment had been beneath another insult.
I should have been offended.
Instead, I found myself staring at him, trying to understand the man standing in front of me.
The same man who had ignored my questions for fifteen days.
The same man who couldn't spare me a decent answer in the morning.
The same man whose fingers had touched my injured wrist as though he were afraid of causing me more pain.
Why?
Why did he care whether I was hurt?
Why did the thought of someone touching me like that make him look as though he was fighting the urge to tear the world apart?
I couldn't ask.
Not when he was looking at me like that.
Not when every breath seemed to draw my attention to the inches separating us.
I tried to shift sideways.
He straightened immediately, giving me room.
The sudden movement broke whatever spell had held me in place.
I slipped past him, clutching my books to my chest.
"There," I muttered, trying to sound annoyed rather than shaken. "Happy now?"
"No."
I stopped.
The single word made me turn back.
Adrian had lowered his hands. He stood beside the wall, his expression once again unreadable.
His gaze settled on my wrist.
"I'll find out."
My stomach dropped.
"Adrian—"
He looked at me.
I lost the rest of the sentence.
There was no raised voice. No dramatic threat. No smirk.
Just that cold, absolute certainty in his eyes.
He wasn't asking for permission.
He was telling me what would happen.
I swallowed.
"You can't just—"
"Watch me."
Then he stepped away.
The distance between us returned so abruptly that I almost felt its absence as a physical ache.
He adjusted his watch, glanced once more at my wrist, and turned toward the corridor.
"Adrian!"
He stopped without looking back.
I hesitated.
For the first time since I'd met him, I couldn't decide what I wanted to ask.
Why had he been watching me during chemistry?
Why had he disappeared for fifteen days?
Why did he look at my bruises as though they were a personal insult?
And why, when he'd stood so close to me, had I been more conscious of him than of anything else in the world?
In the end, I said nothing.
"Try not to injure yourself walking to class," he remarked dryly.
I stared at his back.
"You're unbelievable!"
He continued walking.
Naturally.
I stood there, furious, bewildered, and far too aware of the warmth lingering where his fingers had held my wrist.
Then I looked down at the bruises.
Peter had hurt me.
But Adrian had seen them and reacted as though something inside him had snapped.
I should have been thinking about Tessy. About how to expose Peter before he could hurt her, too.
I should have been worrying about the truth I still didn't know about that night.
Instead, one question kept circling my mind.
Why did Adrian Blake look as though he could destroy someone for laying a hand on me?
And why was the thought so terrifyingly difficult to forget?