The air smelled of gasoline and cheap cigarettes when the roar of engines broke the quiet hum of campus life. It was the first week of the semester, when freshmen were still learning how to find their classes and upperclassmen claimed their territory all over again.
Heads turned as five motorcycles rolled past the library steps, engines purring like predators. At the front, astride a matte-black bike, sat Zachary Moreno. Everyone called him Zac. Everyone feared him, too. He didn't look like a student so much as a storm that refused to leave. Dark hair falling messily into sharp eyes, leather jacket thrown open over a white shirt, cigarette dangling from his lips. Behind him came the rest of The Pumas; his pack, his gang, his shadows.
Wherever Zac went, trouble followed; that was what people said about him.
Freshmen whispered nervously, clutching their welcome packets tighter, while others pulled out their phones, pretending to check messages but secretly filming. Everyone knew better than to get in Zac's way.
Everyone, except Alex Campbell.
Alex wasn't reckless. He wasn't brave either. He was just a freshman who hadn't yet learned the unspoken rules of survival on campus. With his glasses slipping down his nose and his backpack stuffed too full, he looked like a walking target. Unfortunately for him, Zac had already noticed.
The bikes screeched to a halt right in front of the quad fountain, scattering a group of wide-eyed students. Zac swung one leg off his bike, exhaling smoke in lazy confidence. His gaze swept the crowd like he was searching for entertainment. And then his eyes landed on Alex.
"You," Zac said, voice sharp enough to slice through the chatter.
Alex froze, pointing at himself in confusion. "Me?"
The Pumas laughed, closing in like vultures.
"Yeah, freshman, you! Who else!" Zac drawled, tossing his cigarette to the ground and crushing it under his boot. "You look new. Wide-eyed. Scared. Perfect."
Alex swallowed hard. "I'm just trying to get to class..."
Zac cut him off with a smirk that never reached his eyes. "Class can wait. This is your real orientation."
The gang jeered, forming a loose circle around Alex. One of them, a tall guy with shaved hair and a scar across his eyebrow, chimed in. "Yeah, initiation time!"
Alex's hands tightened on the straps of his backpack. "I don't want any trouble."
The words were a mistake. Zac's grin widened. "Don't want trouble? That's the only language we speak here."
And then it began. Zac shoved Alex's shoulder lightly, almost playful at first. Alex stumbled back, clutching his backpack. The gang laughed.
"Take it off," Zac ordered.
Alex slowly took off his backpack.
"No, not your backpack, you dumb," Zac's eyes gleamed with cruelty. "Your clothes!"
The crowd gasped. A few phones lifted higher, recording.
Alex's face went pale. "What? No! I'm not gonna take my—"
Zac stepped closer, towering over him. "Strip, freshman. Show us you've got nothing to hide. Or…" His hand shot forward, snatching Alex's collar. With one vicious tug, the fabric tore.
"Stop! Please..." Alex's voice cracked, desperation spilling through.
But Zac didn't stop. He ripped at Alex's shirt until buttons flew, exposing trembling skin underneath. The Pumas howled with laughter, egging him on.
"Come on, Alex!" one shouted. "Give the campus a show, freshman!"
Alex's cheeks burned crimson. He tried to hold his shirt together, tried to back away, but there was nowhere to go. The circle had closed in. He was trapped.
Zac shoved him again, harder this time, until Alex nearly fell against the fountain. The crowd's laughter grew uglier, phones capturing every humiliating second.
And then—
"HEY!"
The voice cracked through the chaos like a whip.
The crowd parted before she even appeared. A girl stormed forward, fire in her eyes, steps fast and furious. Her long dark hair swayed behind her, her jaw tight with fury. She looked like she had marched straight out of a battlefield and into the quad.
Leona Campbell.
She didn't hesitate. She shoved past the Pumas like they were nothing more than smoke, reached Alex, and yanked her jacket off, wrapping it around his bare shoulders. Her arm curled protectively around him as if shielding him from every eye in the quad.
And then she turned.
Her glare found Zac instantly.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
The quad went silent.
Zac tilted his head, amused. "And who the hell are you supposed to be?"
Leona took a step forward, her brother trembling behind her, but her voice didn't waver. "I'm the sister of the boy you just humiliated. The one you think is too weak to fight back. You want to bully someone?" She jabbed a finger at his chest. "Try me."
The Pumas roared with laughter, some clapping, some whistling. But Zac didn't laugh.
He studied her. The way she stood tall despite being surrounded. The way her eyes burned like gasoline flames. The way she wasn't flinching at all. Everything.
"No one talks to me like that," Zac said, voice low.
Leone glare didn't falter, even as her pulse thundered. "Touch my brother again, and I swear you'll regret ever setting foot on this campus."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. No one ever spoke to Zac Moreno like that.
The Pumas waited for him to remind her, and everyone, who ruled this campus, but instead, Zac tilted his head, his smirk slow and dangerous. He stepped closer, close enough for only her to hear, yet loud enough for the whole crowd to feel the weight of his words.
"Oh?" his voice was smooth, mocking, and far too calm. "Looks like the freshman came with a bodyguard."
His eyes dragged over her, sharp and deliberate.
"What's your name, princess?" he murmured, grin curling wider. "I think I just found my next game."