Falling for my greatest Nemesis, Killian Blackwood

Hazel POV

The bass at the Omega fraternity party vibrated straight through the soles of my sneakers. I pressed my back against the crowded hallway wall, gripping my red plastic cup like a shield.

"Just blend in," my best friend, Winter, had whispered before disappearing into the sea of dancing bodies with Mila.

I didn't want to blend in. I wanted to vanish. At five feet tall, hiding in a crowd of elite, wealthy students should have been easy. But Legacy Thorne University was crawling with predators.

Suddenly, a heavy arm clamped around my shoulders. The scent of cheap alcohol and expensive cologne hit me.

"Look what we have here," a loud voice boomed. It was Jason Jax, one of the notorious campus bikers. He smirked down at me, his eyes glassy. "A freshman. And she looks terrified."

"Let go of me," I murmured, my heart hammering against my ribs.

A crowd instantly formed around us. I tried to duck under his arm. He yanked me back against him before I'd moved an inch.

"Where you going, freshman?" Jason's grip dug into my shoulder. "Party's just getting started."

"I said let go."

"Feisty. I like that."

Someone in the crowd laughed. Phones came up.

"Hey, Jason! Ten bucks says you can't get the freshman to drink the whole bottle of tequila right now!" someone yelled from the crowd.

"Make it fifty, and I'll make her crawl for it," Jason barked back, laughing.

The crowd cheered, holding up their phones. Flashlights blinded me. The humiliation tasted like ash in my mouth. It felt exactly like middle school. The same mocking laughter. The same helplessness. I shoved Jason's chest with all my might.

He didn't move an inch. Instead, his grip tightened, forcing the plastic cup against my lips. Liquid spilled down my chin.

The smell hit me first, sharp, burning, wrong. My stomach lurched. I clamped my mouth shut and twisted my face away, but his hand followed, cup pressing harder, cold plastic digging into my bottom lip.

"Drink it," Jason said, his voice losing its playful edge. "Come on. Everyone's watching."

I could hear them. Phones held up, somebody counting down, somebody else laughing the way people laugh when they've already decided you're going to lose.

My eyes burned. I wasn't going to cry. Not here. Not again.

"Hey. Drop it."

The voice was low, cutting through the roaring music like a blade. The hallway instantly fell dead silent. The crowd parted like the Red Sea.

A tall figure stepped out of the shadows. Six feet of pure, calculated malice. He wore a heavy leather motorcycle jacket, his dark hair messy, his jawline sharp enough to cut glass. But it was his eyes that made my blood run completely cold.

Pitch black. Cold as ice.

Killian Blackwood.

My throat closed up. My vision blurred. I had spent three years transforming myself, losing the weight, changing my style, trying to erase the ugly, broken girl he used to terrorize in London. But I would know that face anywhere. He was the monster under my bed.

Killian didn't look at Jason. His freezing gaze locked directly onto me.

"Killian, man, we're just having some fun with the freshman," Jason chuckled, though he stepped back, releasing my shoulder.

Killian walked over, his heavy boots thudding against the hardwood floor. He stopped mere inches from me. The sheer size of him blocked out the rest of the room. He leaned down, his eyes scanning my face, tracking my long black hair down to my green eyes.

A slow, terrifying smirk curved his lips.

"Well, well," Killian whispered, his voice dangerously smooth. "Look who finally grew up."

Panic seized me. I turned on my heel and bolted through the crowd.

I shoved past shoulders and elbows, bursting out of the frat house and into the cold night air of the campus quad. Tears pricked my eyes. He recognized me. Even after everything, he knew exactly who I was.

"Running away again, Hazel?"

I gasped, spinning around. I hadn't even heard him follow me. Killian was already there, steps away, stepping under the dim orange glow of a campus streetlight.

"Leave me alone, Killian," I choked out, backing away until my spine hit the brick wall of the library.

He didn't stop. He closed the distance until his chest practically brushed mine. He placed both hands on the brick wall on either side of my head, trapping me completely. The scent of leather and winter air enveloped me.

"Leave you alone?" He chuckled, a dark, rumbling sound. He tilted his head, his cold gaze dropping to my lips before locking back onto my eyes. "After I spent years looking for you? I don't think so, sweetpea."

"I don't fear you anymore," I lied, my voice trembling.

"Is that so?" His mouth curved, unimpressed. "You used to be a terrible liar. I don't think that's changed."

"You don't know anything about me anymore."

"I know you ran the second you saw my face. I know your hands are shaking right now." His gaze flicked down, deliberately, to where my fingers were curled into fists at my sides. "Tell me again how unafraid you are."

"Get away from me."

Killian leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear. His fingers brushed against the stray strands of my black hair, sending a violent shiver down my spine. "Because your heartbeat says otherwise. You're trembling."

"What do you want from me?" I whispered, staring up at him.

Behind him, footsteps approached. Jason and Lucian Vane stepped into the light of the quad, grinning like wolves.

"You found her, Blackwood," Lucian said, his eyes gleaming with an unhinged amusement. "So, is the bet still on?"

I froze. "What bet?"

Killian didn't break eye contact with me. His dark eyes held a cruel, possessive glint as a slow smile spread across his face.

"The bet is definitely on," Killian murmured to his friends, his thumb slowly tracing my jawline. "Whoever breaks her first wins."