I spent the day walking around campus like a zombie. My neck wouldn't stop itching. Underneath the thick layer of concealer, the mark felt like a living thing, buzzing against my pulse. 

Does it still hurt, Elena?

The way he'd said my name... it was driving me insane. I was a law student. I was supposed to be logical. He can say whatever the hell he wants to but I know it was him that night.

I was so deep in my own head that I didn't hear the hum of the engine.

I stepped off the curb near the university's main gate, my eyes glued to my textbook, when a screech of tires sliced through the air. I looked up, paralyzed, as a sleek, silver sports car-the kind that cost more than my life-swerved, missing my knees by a mere inch.

I fell back onto the pavement, my books scattering everywhere.

"Oh my god! I am so sorry!"

The car door swung open, and a man stepped out. For a second, my heart stopped. The height, the build, the sharp jawline-it was him.

But then he stepped into the sunlight, and the illusion shattered. This man didn't have Alaric's dark, brooding hair; his was a striking, silver, styled to perfection. He wasn't wearing a suit, but a designer sweater that looked soft enough to melt into. And his eyes-while they were that same haunting blue-were dancing with warmth and concern, not cold like Alaric's own.

"Are you hurt? Please tell me you're okay," he said, reaching down to help me up.

"I-I'm fine," I stammered, taking his hand. His grip was firm, but gentle.

"I'm Silas," he said, giving me a smile that could probably end wars. "And I'm a complete idiot for not watching the crosswalk. I was on a conference call and... well, that's no excuse for almost flattening the most beautiful woman on campus."

I felt my face flush. He was charming. Effortlessly charming. Unlike Alaric, who made me feel like a bug under a microscope, Silas made me feel like the only person in the world. I don't know why I'm already clinging onto the idea of Silas but it's not everyday a handsome rich man flirts with you.

"I'm Elena," I managed to say, brushing the dirt off my jeans.

"Elena," he repeated, his voice like honey. He looked at my books on the ground and then back at me. "Look, Elena, I feel terrible. Please, let me make it up to you. Let me take you to dinner tonight. Somewhere quiet, where I can properly apologize for my terrible driving."

I should have said no. I had a mountain of homework, and I was already emotionally exhausted. But I looked at his kind face and thought about Alaric's coldness. I needed a distraction. I needed to prove to myself that I wasn't into my professor. 

"Okay," I said softly. "Dinner sounds nice." I hope I don't regret this decision with a total stranger.

Silas led me to his car, I sat inside, feeling the smoothness of the chair, Silas gave me a smirk before speeding off. He didn't turn on the radio; he just drove, occasionally glancing at me with a smirk that made me want to hide and lean closer all at the same time.

When we pulled up to the curb, a valet in a uniform scurried over. Silas didn't wait for him to open my door. He was already there, offering his hand to help me out of the low-slung seat.

"Relax, Elena," he whispered, his breath catching the stray hairs near my ear. "You're with me. No one here is looking at anything but how lucky I am."

The restaurant, The Golden Lily, was perched on the fiftieth floor. As we walked in, the head waiter bowed-actually bowed-to Silas.

"Sir. Your usual table?"

"The corner, Pierre. We'd like some privacy."

Silas led me to a table overlooking the entire city. Before I could even reach for the back of the chair, he was behind me. I felt the warmth of his body as he leaned in, his hands firmly holding the gold chair and sliding it forward as I sat. His fingers lingered on the wood near my shoulders for a second too long before he moved to his own seat.

"I... I feel like I should have changed," I said, smoothing my skirt. I was wearing my campus clothes-jeans and a decent blouse-but surrounded by women in fancy gowns and diamonds, I felt like a stray cat.

"You're the most interesting thing in this room," Silas said, dismissing my worry with a wave of his hand. He didn't even look at the menu. He just looked at me. "I've already taken the liberty of ordering the tasting menu for us. And the wine-a 1998 vintage. It's light, but it has a bit of a bite. You look like a girl who appreciates a bit of a bite."

My heart did a nervous little skip. A bite. Was he joking? Or was it just a coincidence?

"So, Silas," I said, trying to regain some control over the conversation. "What exactly do you do? Besides almost running over scholarship students?"

He grinned, showing off perfectly white teeth. "I run an Industries. We do a bit of everything-tech, real estate, private security. I spend most of my days in boardrooms listening to men in suits bore me to death. Which is why meeting someone like you is such a breath of fresh air."

"Someone like me? You mean a girl who can't cross the street properly?"

"I mean someone real," he said, his gaze turning intense. "Someone whose eyes tell a story. You're sad, Elena. And you're angry. Why?"

I froze. He was too observant. "My boyfriend-ex-boyfriend-cheated on me. With my best friend. I found them two days ago."

Silas's expression didn't change, but the air around the table felt heavier. "A man who lets a woman like you go is a fool. And a man who hurts you... well, he doesn't deserve to keep his tongue."

The waiter arrived then, placing small plates of seared scallops and truffle cream in front of us. Silas ate, gesturing to me to go ahead. I followed his move, his eyes watching me over the rim of his wine glass.

"Tell me about your studies," he prompted. "Law is a heavy burden for such a young woman."

"I like the order of it," I said, finally relaxing a little as the wine started to hum in my blood. "There are rules. If you break them, there are consequences. It makes sense."

"Rules are meant to be broken by the people who have the power to rewrite them," Silas countered. He reached across the table, his fingers tracing the rim of my glass. "Don't tell me you've never wanted to do something just because it felt good, even if the rules said no?"

I thought of the man in the bar. I thought of the way I'd let a stranger bite me. I thought of the way my body ached when Professor Blackwood looked at me.

"I try to be a good person," I whispered.

"Being good is boring, Elena," Silas murmured. He stood up, but instead of leaving, he walked around to my side of the table. "Walk with me to the balcony? The air is clearer out there."

I followed him out into the night air. The lights twinkled below us like fallen stars. Silas stood close behind me.

"You're shivering," he said. He didn't offer his jacket. Instead, he reached out, his hand sliding over mine where it gripped the railing.

The moment our skin touched, the mark on my neck didn't just itch-it erupted. A blinding heat shot from the puncture marks, down my spine, and straight to my core. It was the exact same feeling I'd had with Alaric. 

I gasped, my legs feeling like jelly.

"Elena? Is something wrong?" Silas asked. His thumb began to stroke the back of my hand, He didn't let go. His grip tightened, and for a split second, that warm, charming billionaire mask slipped. His eyes went dark, the blue turning into a deep, stormy darkness.

He looked hungry. Not for food, but for me.

"I... I just got a chill," I lied, my voice trembling so hard I could barely get the words out.

I felt physically sick with confusion. How was this possible? I was pining for a professor who treated me like garbage, still dreaming about a stranger who had bitten me in a parking lot, and now I was standing on a balcony wanting a billionaire I'd known for three hours to push me against the glass and never let me go.

"You're a very good liar, Elena," Silas whispered, his lips brushing against my temple. "But your pulse is racing. I can feel it against my skin."

I pulled my hand away, my breath coming in short, panicked bursts. "I have to go. Please. I just... I need to go home."

"What is wrong with me?" I whispered as I bolted out the door 

The mark on my neck felt like a brand. A mark of shame.

I wasn't just a scholarship student anymore. I was a liar. I was a traitor to my own heart. Why do I feel this way because of Professor Alaric, someone who doesn't care

It's been two days since the encounter with Silas and Alaric. I've tried hard to avoid Alaric but I feel like it's becoming impossible. I have a class with him tomorrow and I'm dreading it.

The library parking lot was quiet and dark. It was nearly midnight, and my brain was fried from trying to memorize property laws, but mostly from trying to scrub the memory of Silas's touch and Alaric's voice out of my head.

I just wanted to get to my car. I wanted to go to sleep and wake up as a normal girl again-the girl who didn't feel like her skin was on fire.

"Elena! Wait up!"

I groaned, my shoulders dropping. Marcus was standing by my old car, looking smug. He'd clearly been waiting for me.

"I have nothing to say to you, Marcus. Move."

"You think you're so high and mighty now?" he spat, stepping into my path. He looked different, his eyes darting around. "I saw you getting into that silver car today. Who was that? Some rich sugar daddy? Is that how you're paying for this semester?"

"It's none of your business. Get out of my way."

He grabbed my wrist, and this time, he didn't let go. His fingers squeezed until I winced. "I made you, Elena. Without me, you're just a girl from the trailer park with a pretty face. If you don't come back to my place tonight and talk this out, I'll call the dean. I'll tell them you're 'servicing' donors for tuition. I'll ruin that scholarship so fast your head will spin."

"You wouldn't," I whispered, horror dawning on me. He was a narcissist, but this was a new low.

"Try me. I have nothing to lose. Now, get in the car-"

A loud bone-shaking roar cut him off.

The sound was deafening, it vibrated through my chest, I looked back and it was a massive black motorcycle, it moved into the parking lot, tires screaming as it drifted in a tight circle around us, kicking up smoke and dust.

The rider was a giant. He wore a worn leather vest over a black hoodie, the sleeves pushed up to reveal arms covered in thick, dark tattoos. He killed the engine, and the silence that followed was even more terrifying.

He hopped off the bike, moving closer to us, I felt terrified at his frame. When he pulled off his helmet, I nearly fell over.

It was the face again. Who the fuck did I offend, huh? 

But this version was different, more rugged. His hair was a wild, dark mess, and a rough scar ran through his eyebrow and down his cheek. He looked like he'd spent his life fighting, and winning.

"Let go of her," the biker said. His voice was deeper and more dangerous than Alaric's or Silas's. I can't help but compare because he looks like them but I'm sure they have no business to associate with his kind, not trying to sound bad but look at him.

"Who the hell are you?" Marcus yelled, trying to sound tough despite his voice cracking.

The biker didn't answer with words. He moved faster than I could blink. One second he was ten feet away, and the next, he had Marcus by the throat, slamming him against the side of my car. The door pressed from the force.

"I'm the guy who's going to feed you if you touch her again," the biker growled. He lifted Marcus off the ground by his neck. Marcus's face went purple, his legs kicking uselessly.

"Please! Stop!" I cried out, grabbing the biker's leather-clad arm.

The moment I touched him, the world exploded.

It was like sticking my hand into an open socket. The bite mark on my neck didn't just heat up-it burned my whole body. My knees buckled, and for a second, I thought I was going to faint.

The biker dropped Marcus like a sack of potatoes. Marcus scrambled away, gasping for air, and ran away without looking back.

The biker turned to me. He didn't offer a hand. He stepped into my space, his heavy boots making noise on the pavement, and pinned me against the seat of his motorcycle. He smelled of gasoline, expensive tobacco, and a musky, animal scent that made my inner thighs ache.

"You're a messy little thing, aren't you?" he muttered, his eyes-those same piercing, predatory blue eyes-scanning my face. He reached out, his calloused thumb dragging over my bottom lip.

"Who... who are you?" I whispered, my breath coming in short gasps. My body was betraying me again. I wanted to wrap my legs around his waist and kiss him. What's wrong with me, what are these men doing to me?

"Name's Killian," he said, his hand sliding up to my neck, his palm covering the mark Alaric had left. "And you're coming with me."

"No!" I shouted, the word finally tearing out of my throat. I shoved his chest with everything I had. "No! I don't know you! Leave me alone, Let me go for fuck sake!"

I was shouting, hoping that someone would hear me. 

"I am not that kind of girl!" I screamed at his face, my voice echoing in the empty lot. "I'm not some... some toy you can just pick up! Stay away from me! All of you, stay away!" I screamed like a mad woman, I was basically losing my mind here and all I could do was run.

I didn't wait for him to respond. I scrambled into my car, fumbling with the keys, my hands shaking so hard I dropped them twice. Killian didn't chase me. He just stood there, his arms crossed over his massive chest, watching me with a dark, knowing smirk.

I drove out of the lot, driving like a maniac until I reached my dorm. I ran inside, locked the door, pushed my dresser in front of it, and collapsed onto my bed.

I was losing my mind.

I laid there in the dark, staring at the ceiling. The Professor. The Billionaire. The Biker. They weren't just similar. They had the exact same eyes. The same way of looking at me like I was a piece of meat they were waiting to devour.

What is happening to me? Am I in some game? Where did I go wrong? 

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. Then again. And again. I tried ignoring it, I had serious things to settle but the constant noise wasn't doing me any good.

A notification lit up the screen. A different unknown number.

12:00 AM:"You're mine to protect, little bird. Try to run again and see what happens. - K"

There is only one person I know that has a name beginning with K and it is that motherfucker.

How did he get my number? I don't remember giving out any information about me. I dropped the phone on the mattress as if it had burned me. My neck began to glow, a faint, red light shining through the fabric of my shirt. 

The pain that followed was something else, I tried clawing at the wound but it only made things worse, what have I gotten myself involved in?

And then, I heard it.

Inside my head, three distinct, low growls vibrated against my skull, harmonizing into a single, terrifying command that made me freeze on spot 

"Ours."

Then everything went dark

I woke up before my alarm even had a chance to beep. The room was freezing, but my skin felt like it was on fire. I stayed under the covers for a long time, staring at the chipped white paint on my ceiling.

My life felt like a joke. A week ago, my biggest worry was whether Marcus and I would ever be able to afford a real apartment after graduation. Now, Marcus was gone, and I was being hunted by three different men who looked like they stepped out of a nightmare and a magazine at the same time. I was a scholarship student with no money, a broken heart, and a weird glowing mark on my neck.

"Pathetic," I whispered to the empty room.

I scoffed at myself, throwing the blankets back. I couldn't afford to be a victim. If I missed class or let my grades slip, I'd be back in the town I worked so hard to leave, working a dead-end job for the rest of my life.

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and peeled back the bandage I'd put over my neck. The skin was still tender, and the two puncture marks were a deep, angry red. They didn't look like a hickey anymore. They looked fucking weird.

"Just a weird infection," I said to my reflection. "Or a reaction to the metal in the jewelry I don't even wear."

I applied a thick layer of heavy concealer, then topped it with a high-neck sweater. It was itchy and uncomfortable, but it was better than people seeing it and asking questions. I grabbed my bag, shoved my phone deep into my pocket so I wouldn't have to look at those three terrifying texts, and headed for the law building.

The campus was busy. Students were drinking coffee and laughing, complaining about midterms as if the world was normal. I kept my head down, my heart thumping against my ribs. Every time a motorcycle hummed in the distance, I flinched.

I reached the lecture hall ten minutes early. I took my usual seat in the back, trying to blend into the shadows. I just wanted to get through this hour without Alaric looking at me.

"You look like you haven't slept in a week, Elena."

I jumped, nearly knocking my coffee over. It was Jax, a guy from my study group. He sat down next to me, looking concerned.

"Just a long night of studying," I said, forced a smile.

"Right. Law will do that to you," Jax said. "Hey, did you hear about the fight in the library parking lot last night? Someone said a biker nearly killed a guy. Police were there this morning asking questions."

My blood ran cold. "I didn't hear anything."

"Lucky you. This town is getting weird," Jax muttered, opening his laptop.

The door at the front of the room swung open. The chatter died down instantly. Alaric walked in, his black coat billowing slightly behind him. He looked perfect-not a hair out of place, his glasses catching the light. He looked like a god of law and order.

He set his briefcase on the podium and scanned the room. His eyes passed over me without stopping, but I felt a pull in my chest that made it hard to breathe.

"Today, we are discussing the ethics of coercion," Alaric said, his voice echoing. "Specifically, when a contract is signed under duress. Can a person truly be held to a promise they made when they were afraid?"

He started pacing. He was a great teacher, but I couldn't focus on the words. All I could think about was the text he sent. See you in class, Elena.

Halfway through the lecture, he stopped right in front of my row. He wasn't looking at me, but he was close enough that I could smell him.

"Miss Vance," he said.

I stiffened. "Yes, Professor?"

"If a man offers you safety in exchange for your freedom, is that a fair trade?"

The room went silent. I could feel everyone's eyes on me. I looked up at him, and for a second, the mask of the professor slipped. His blue eyes darkened, becoming that deep, predatory color I saw in the bar.

"No," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "Freedom isn't something you trade. If it's forced, it isn't a trade at all. It's a crime."

Alaric tilted his head, a small, cruel smile touching his lips. "A very textbook answer. But in the real world, Elena, some people don't give you a choice.

Some people simply take what they want because they have the power to keep it."

He turned on his heel and walked back to the podium. "Class dismissed. Miss Vance, stay behind. We need to discuss your last essay."

Jax gave me a sympathetic look as he packed up. "Good luck. He looks like he's in a mood today."

"Thanks," I whispered.

I waited until the last student left. I didn't move from my seat. Alaric stayed at the podium, clicking his pen. The sound felt like a ticking bomb.

"Come here," he commanded.

I walked down the stairs, stopping at the front row. "I didn't turn in an essay yesterday, Professor. We both know that."

Alaric looked up. He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I didn't ask you here to talk about school, Elena."

"Then why? To tell me you didn't send that text? To tell me you weren't the man who fucked me?"

He stood up and walked toward me. I backed away until I hit the edge of a desk. He didn't stop until he was inches away. He reached out, his hand wrapping around the back of my neck. His thumb pressed right against the spot where the mark was hidden under my sweater.

I gasped, my eyes fluttering shut. The heat was back, moving through my body like a drug.

"You're making this very difficult," he whispered.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, my voice breaking. "You act like you don't know me in front of the class, and then you touch me like... like you own me."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Miss Vance," he said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble. "I'm simply making sure you're paying attention. You seem to have a habit of wandering off into dangerous places."

"Like the Neon Moon?" I challenged.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my ear. "I have never been to such a place. But if I had, I certainly wouldn't have let you leave so easily."

He let go of me suddenly and stepped back, putting his glasses back on. The cold professor was back.

"Go to your next class, Elena. Try to stay focused. You wouldn't want to lose that scholarship over a few... distractions."

I stared at him, my mouth dry. I turned and ran out of the room. I didn't go to my next class. I ran straight for the side exit of the building. My mind was a mess. Alaric was lying, I knew he was, but why? And how could I feel this way about him when Silas was so kind, and that biker...

I reached the courtyard and stopped, leaning against a tree to catch my breath. My phone vibrated. I pulled it out, my hands shaking.

12:15 PM: "Don't even think about the back exit, little bird. I'm already watching you. - K"

I looked around wildly. Across the courtyard, sitting on a black motorcycle near the library, was Killian. He was leaning against his handlebars, staring straight at me. He raised a hand in a slow, mocking wave.

I was trapped. I felt like a deer caught in the sights of three different hunters