TESSA.

I walked into the lecture hall the next morning, earlier than usual.

Scanning the rows, I spotted Nova in the middle column, headphones on, bobbing her head slightly to whatever track she was drowning in. A smile tugged at my lips as I slid into the seat beside her and tapped her shoulder.

She tugged one earbud free, with a surprise look on her face. "You came early."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, because I passed out immediately I got home yesterday and didn't wake up until five this morning. Yesterday drained me."

Nova smirked. "Not easy being a campus celebrity."

"Don't even start," I muttered, pulling out my phone. "I hate the attention. I just want to be invisible again."

Her grin widened. "You made it worse yesterday. Damien's never gonna let that slide-"

The room fell silent before she could finish.

I glanced around, confused, and found every pair of eyes fixed on the door. Before I turned, Nova nudged my leg and murmured, "Speak of the Devil."

A hand landed on my shoulder, casual, like he owned the right to touch me. My skin crawled instantly. I hated it-hated when anyone thought they could put their hands on me without permission.

I turned my head, eyes narrowing. "Hands off."

He chuckled, not moving his hand. His voice was low and dripping with mockery. "You need to understand something, sweetheart. I'm not Jaxson, the clown you humiliated. I don't get shown up. I don't get cut. I came to give you a warning, and maybe an offer."

Before he could continue, I shoved his hand off me and stood, fire burning in my chest. "Get lost, asshole." My voice carried across the room. "A warning? Who the fuck do you think you are?"

A few gasps rippled through the lecture hall. Some students leaned forward, hungry for drama; others hid behind their phones, already recording.

Nova tugged at my wrist under the desk, her fingers tight like a plea, but I didn't look at her. My eyes were locked on Damien's.

His jaw flexed as he leaned closer, his voice sharp enough to cut glass. "What makes you think you're untouchable? Just because I didn't crush you yesterday doesn't mean you get to mouth off. I'll burn that ego of yours to the ground. And not even those wannabe Serpents you just joined will save you from me. So watch your mouth, little girl."

My pulse kicked hard against my throat. Fear licked the edges of my chest, but I refused to give him the satisfaction. I stepped closer until only inches separated us. "You came here for trouble, and you're pissed I won't hand it to you? You're sulking because I refused to race? Because you can't handle rejection and now you're throwing a tantrum?" I tilted my head, lips curling. "Pathetic. Get the fuck out of my face."

A ripple of murmurs broke through the class. Someone whispered, "She's insane." Someone else muttered, "She's dead."

Damien's smirk became razor-sharp, and his eyes were darker than before. He didn't care about the audience; he wanted me to feel it.

And I did. My body was tense, my fists curled, but I stood my ground.

Before he could respond, the professor strode in. "Class, sit down."

Damien straightened, that slow grin never leaving his face. He leaned down until his lips brushed my ear. His whisper was ice and venom. "You just made yourself my business. See you after class, princess."

He pulled away and strolled out of the class, his crew trailing behind him like shadows, laughing low.

I sat down hard, anger boiling in my veins. Who the hell did he think he was?

The room buzzed with tension. Whispers, phones tapping, eyes darting my way. Nova's hand clamped on mine under the desk, her nails digging in. She mouthed, You okay? Her eyes held a storm of fear and disbelief.

I nodded stiffly, jaw tight. My hands trembled, but I forced a shrug. "Don't worry. He's full of air. He won't get to me."

Nova's lips pressed thin. Her eyes flicked to the entrance. "He didn't come to scare you," she whispered. "He came to mark you."

A chill crawled down my spine. "What do you mean?"

"He doesn't forgive slights," she said. "He collects them. You just made his list."

I swallowed hard, the weight of her words settling heavily in my chest.

The professor's voice blurred in and out after that. My mind was stuck on Damien's words, on the dark promise in his eyes.

When the class finally ended, Nova nudged me. "You looked lost the whole time."

"I just hate when someone tries to get a reaction out of me on purpose," I muttered. My shoulders slumped. "I feel drained. I should go home."

"It's okay," she said. "Just avoid him. Don't feed into it. But know this, he won't stop until he gets what he wants. So don't say anything next time. Just walk away."

I nodded. "I'll try. But my anger issues might not let me."

We headed out to the parking lot, and my stomach dropped. Damien was leaning against my bike, a lollipop stick hanging from his lips.

"Fucking hell," Nova muttered. "He's not going to stop."

Damien's head lifted as we approached. His smirk widened, slow and taunting. He pulled the sweet from his mouth and pointed it at me. "You took your damn time. I don't like waiting."

I walked closer, forcing calm. "Get off my bike."

He laughed, sharp and mocking. "You're cocky, I'll give you that. But you really don't know who you're poking at. You don't know me, sweetheart. Not yet." His voice dropped, colder than steel.

I stepped right up to him, my patience gone. "And you don't know me, Damien. So get off while I'm asking nicely."

His grin vanished. The lollipop stick hit the ground.

Without warning, his hand shot around my throat. His grip clamped down, squeezing until my air thinned.

I clawed at his arm, my lungs burning. Nova's scream tore through the lot. "Let her go! What the hell, Damien? You're gonna kill her!"

I kicked, pushed, and fought, but my strength bled fast. My head spun, vision blurring at the edges.

Then-CRACK.

A fist smashed against Damien's cheek, the sound sickening and sharp. His grip snapped open, and he stumbled back, crashing to the ground.

My knees buckled, but a hand caught me before I could fall. Strong and Unyielding.

Blinking through the haze, I lifted my head and met Jaxson's eyes. His face was twisted with rage, jaw tight, knuckles bloody from the punch.

He pulled me upright, his voice low and furious. "Are you okay?"

JAXSON.

My knuckles ached from the hit, but I didn't give a damn. Seeing Damien on the ground clutching his jaw wasn't enough. The moment I saw his hand around her throat, something inside me boiled over. I didn't think before I moved. My fist connected before I could stop myself.

And still, it wasn't enough. I wanted more than to break his face. I wanted to crush every bone in his body for daring to touch her. For putting his filthy hands where they didn't belong.

What pissed me off the most was how my heart reacted. Why the hell did it feel different seeing her like that? I'd seen scumbags rough up girls before, seen worse, but the sight of her struggling for breath, her fingers clawing at his grip, lit a fire in my chest I couldn't put out.

I hauled her upright. "Are you okay?" I asked, softer than I sounded.

She steadied, fingers at her throat, then shoved me away. She staggered but didn't fall. Damien hauled himself up, eyes full of hot anger.

She went after him. Her hand snapped across his face, and he stumbled back, clutching the side of his head. "You bitch!" he snarled and moved forward, suddenly and forcefully. She swung her bag like a weapon, the strap cracking against his jaw. He hit the ground again and she rained boots on his face, cursing him until Nova grabbed her arm.

"Tessa, stop! Please!" Nova hissed, trying to pull her back. But Tessa pushed Nova off like she didn't exist and kept on, mad as a thunderstorm.

I moved in, slipping my arms under her shoulders and lifting her up. She fought like a wild thing, nails and teeth-"Put me down! Don't fucking touch me!"-spitting at me as if I had betrayed her.

I ignored the chaos around us, the phones, the whispers, and carried her toward the school garden where fewer people crowded. As I set her down she wrenched free and, lightning-quick, slapped me across the face. The slap landed clean. The taste of blood hit my tongue where my lip split. For a bit, the world narrowed to the sting and the look in her eyes: furious and wounded.

She glared at me, voice cutting like gravel.

"Don't you ever fucking touch me like that again. I don't care if you just saved me, I don't need your help, Jaxson."

She trembled, but only where I could see the edges of it. She fought to look steady, to make the quake inside mean nothing. Seeing her like that did something stupid in my chest, a heat I didn't want, a possessiveness that tasted wrong and right all at once.

She pushed past me; her shoulder grazed my chest. I closed my hand on her wrist. She stopped like she'd hit a wall.

"Let go." Her voice was flat and dangerous.

I met her fire with my own. "Learn to appreciate help when it's given. That pride of yours won't get you far."

She jerked her hand, trying to pull free. "I didn't ask for your help. You're no better than that asshole. Don't expect me to say thanks, you're just like him, another scumbag looking for attention."

That line should've been a slap. It lit me. "Don't you dare compare me to Damien." My voice went cold and hard. "We aren't the same."

She laughed, sharp and ugly. "You're an asshole. He's an asshole. The two of you should hold hands and get over yourselves."

I closed the distance between us as I held her close to me, my gaze burning in hers. She tried to push me away but I held her still, and I said, low enough that only she heard, "Don't ever put me in the same box as Damien. He doesn't matter to me. But you..." My grip tightened on her wrist, my voice dropping lower, "...you're my business. Whether you like it or not. He can play his games, but when it comes to you, he's stepping into my territory."

She spat back, eyes flashing. "I'm nobody's business. Not yours. Not his. Stay the hell away from me."

Something in me wanted to laugh. I wanted to fold her in and never let the world touch her again. The possession prickling in my gut surprised me with how clean it felt. "You want to be stubborn?" I said, my voice low, "I'm going to crush that little pride of yours. Ruin that ego, and make you beg. Do you understand?"

She stepped on my boot hard and my grip loosened around her waist. She shoved me away, wrenching free, eyes burning. "Do you think I'm that easy to break? Think again, you pissed-off shit." Then she glared at me one last time before walking away.

I smirked as she walked. The way she carried that fury, jaw set, shoulders straight, fire in her step, made something in me go hot and wrong. Her attitude is something that makes her so fucking hot.

"You're mine, Tessa," I said to myself.