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

I stared at the screen of my phone, the text from "K" burning into my eyes. My heart was thumping so hard against my ribs that I could feel it in my throat. I looked across the wide grassy area of the courtyard, and there he was.

Killian didn't look like he belonged at a university. He looked dangerous. He was leaning back, his thick arms crossed over his chest, just watching me. He wasn't hiding. He wasn't creeping around. He was just waiting.

"Just keep walking, Elena," I whispered to myself. "He's just one guy. There are hundreds of people here. He won't do anything in public."

I turned my back on him and started walking toward the student union. I tried to keep my pace normal, but my legs felt heavy, every few steps, I glanced over my shoulder.

He was off the bike.

He wasn't running, but his steps were so long that he was closing the gap between us effortlessly. He moved and people instinctively moved out of his way. Students stepped onto the grass just to avoid bumping into him.

I started to walk faster. My breathing was shallow. I could hear the heavy thud of his boots on the pavement behind me.

"Elena."

His voice was a low growl that seemed to vibrate right through my spine. I didn't stop. I hiked my bag higher on my shoulder and practically started jogging.

"I'm busy, Killian!" I shouted over my shoulder. "I have a library shift!"

I didn't have a library shift, but I needed an excuse. I reached the edge of the walkway, thinking I could lose him in the crowd near the cafeteria. I was wrong.

A large, rough hand clamped onto my upper arm. It wasn't painful, It felt like being caught in a  trap. He spun me around, and suddenly I was looking at a wall filled with muscle.

"I told you I was watching," Killian said. Up close, he was even more terrifying. The scar on his eyebrow made him look permanently pissed off.

"Let go of me," I said, trying to yank my arm back. "You're making a scene. People are staring."

Killian looked around with a bored expression. "Let them stare. I don't give a damn about them. I told you to stay put."

"And I told you I'm not your property," I snapped, my temper finally bubbling over the fear. "I don't know who you think you are, but you can't just follow me around campus."

He didn't argue. He didn't even look annoyed. He just stepped closer, forcing me to tilt my head back to see his face. "You're a runner. I like a chase, Elena, but I'm hungry and I'm out of patience."

Before I could even ask what he meant, he moved. In one swift motion, he leaned down and threw me over his shoulder like I was a sack of grain.

"Hey! Put me down!" I shrieked, my face heating up as my feet dangled in the air. "Killian! Everyone is watching! Drop me right now!"

"Stop squirming," he said, giving my ass a firm, playful tap that made me gasp in shock. "You're just making it harder for yourself."

He started walking back toward his bike. I pounded my fists against his back, but it was like hitting a wall. I was mortified. Students were stopping in their tracks, some pulling out phones, others just staring with wide eyes.

"Is she okay?" I heard a girl ask nearby.

"She's fine," Killian called out, his voice booming and full of dark humor. "She just forgot how to listen."

"I am going to kill you!" I hissed, hiding my face against his jacket so no one would recognize me. "My reputation is ruined. I'm going to get kicked out of school because of you!"

"You're too smart to get kicked out," he grumbled.

He reached his motorcycle and finally slid me down. But he didn't let go. He kept his hands on my waist, pinning me against the side of the bike. His heat was overwhelming.

"Put the helmet on," he commanded, holding out a black helmet.

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

Killian leaned in, his nose brushing against mine. His blue eyes were glowing, the pupils blown wide. "You can walk into that library and try to hide, but I'll just walk in and carry you out of there, too. You want to do this the hard way or the fun way?"

I looked at the helmet, then back at his stubborn, scarred face. I knew he wasn't joking.

He was the kind of man who didn't care about rules or scenes.

"Where are we going?" I asked, my voice small.

"Somewhere quiet," he said. "You need to eat, and I need to make sure you stop shaking from fear."

I took the helmet and pulled it over my head, clicking the strap. Killian climbed onto the bike and waited for me to get on behind him. I hesitated for a second before sliding onto the seat.

"Hold on tight, little bird," he said.

I wrapped my arms around his thick waist, my chest pressed against his back. He revved the engine, a sound so loud it made my teeth rattle, and then we were flying.

We left the campus behind, weaving through traffic with a speed that made me squeeze him tighter. I closed my eyes, feeling the wind whip past us. After about twenty minutes, the sound of the city started to fade.

When the bike finally slowed down, I opened my eyes and gasped.

We weren't at a house or a restaurant. We were deep in the woods, stopped in front of a massive building, It looked like a fortress hidden among the trees. Huge windows looked out over a private lake that was as clear as glass.

"What is this place?" I asked as Killian helped me off the bike.

"My home. And for today, yours too." he said, taking my helmet.

I looked up at the building, marveling at how hidden and beautiful it was. It felt a world away from the dusty library and my cramped dorm room. It felt powerful.

Killian took my hand, his fingers locking firmly with mine. "Come on. I prepared food for you. Don't run off, or I'll have to go find you again, and next time, I won't be so nice about it."

I followed him toward the doors, my heart racing for a completely different reason now. I knew I should be scared, but looking at his broad shoulders and the way he held my hand like I was something precious, I felt a strange sense of belonging that I couldn't explain.

The inside of the house was nothing like I expected. I thought it would be a messy warehouse full of beer cans and grease, but it was actually beautiful in a rugged way. The ceilings were high with thick wooden beams, and a large stone fireplace took up most of one wall. It felt solid. It felt like a place that could withstand the strongest wind.

Killian didn't say a word as he led me into a massive kitchen. He pulled out a heavy wooden chair at the island and pointed at it.

"Sit," he said. It wasn't a suggestion.

I sat. I watched him move around the kitchen. He said he prepared food, not I will watch him do it, I just laughed. He was so big that he made the room look small. He pulled a pan onto the stove and started cracking eggs. The smell of bacon soon filled the air, making my stomach growl loudly. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until that moment.

"Do you have a maid or something?" I asked, trying to break the heavy silence. "This place is way too clean for a bunch of bikers."

Killian didn't look back as he flipped the eggs. "No. I don't like strangers in my house. I'm not a fan of people in general."

"So you do all this yourself?"

"I like things done a certain way, Elena," he said. He turned around and placed a plate in front of me. It was piled high with food. "Eat. All of it."

"I can't eat all this," I argued, looking at the mountain of eggs and toast. "And I really need to get back to campus. I have a shift at the library and another class this afternoon."

"The library can wait. Your classes can wait. You're pale and you're shaking. Eat."

I picked up a fork and started eating. He was right; the food was amazing. He didn't sit down with me. Instead, he pulled a crate over to the center of the kitchen and sat on it.

I watched the way his muscles moved under his tattoos. He looked so dangerous, yet there he was, cooking me breakfast and quietly working. After a few minutes, the silence started to feel heavy again. I felt restless. I had finished about half the plate when I decided I'd had enough.

I pushed the plate away and stood up. "Okay, I'm done. Thank you for the breakfast, Killian, but I really have to go now."

In a second, he was on his feet. He was across the kitchen before I could even take a step toward the door. He didn't look angry, but his eyes were dark and focused. He reached out, grabbed me by the waist, and lifted me off the floor as if I weighed nothing.

"Hey! Put me down!" I gasped.

He didn't say a word. He walked back to my chair and placed me firmly back in the seat. He leaned over me, his hands on the arms of the chair, trapping me.

"I said eat all of it," he growled. his face was inches from mine. "I don't like repeating myself, Elena. You're not leaving this chair until that plate is empty."

"You can't just keep me here," I said, my voice trembling. "This is kidnapping."

"Call it whatever you want," he said. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind my ear. His touch was surprisingly gentle compared to his voice. "But you're staying put. Now finish."

I looked at the plate, then back at him. I realized there was no point in fighting. He was too strong and too stubborn. I picked up the fork and finished every last bite while he went back to his crate and continued cleaning his gear.

When I was finally done, he stood up and walked over. He didn't take the plate. Instead, he grabbed a small first-aid kit from a cabinet.

"Come here," he said, sitting back down on the crate. He patted the floor between his legs. "Kneel."

My heart skipped a beat. "What? Why?"

"I need to look at your wound. How did you get it?."

I touched my neck, and realized it wasn't hidden well, I can't tell him that a strange man who is my professor gave me a bruising hickey, that is stupid.

"Well things happen, but I can do it myself," I protested.

"Elena," he said, his voice dropping to that dangerous low warning. "Get over here."

I slowly walked over and knelt between his knees. My heart was racing. I felt so small compared to him. He reached out and gently pulled the collar of my sweater down, exposing the mark more.

I felt him go still as he looked at it.

"This is too deep," Killian muttered.

He opened a bottle of cool antiseptic. He dipped a cotton ball into it and started dabbing the mark. I flinched at the initial sting, but then a strange cooling sensation spread through my neck. The throbbing stopped.

His hands were huge and covered in scars, and his tattoos were intimidating, but he was being so careful with me. He was treating me like I was something fragile.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I whispered. "One minute you're carrying me over your shoulder like a caveman, and the next you're doing this."

Killian stopped dabbing my neck and looked me in the eyes. His gaze was intense. "I protect what's mine, Elena. Even if I have to protect you from yourself."

"I'm not yours," I argued, though my voice lacked conviction.

He didn't answer. He just finished cleaning the mark and put the kit away. He stood up and held out a hand to help me up.

"I need to go home," I said, looking at the large clock on the wall. "Please. I have to get my books for my evening study session."

Killian grumbled something under his breath, looking out the window at the sky. He looked like he wanted to say no, but then he sighed. "Fine. There will be a next time anyway. I'll take you back."

He led me back out to the bike. The ride back to my apartment was quieter than the ride to his place. I held onto him, my head resting against his back. As we pulled up to my building, I realized something that terrified me.

I felt safer in that clubhouse with a man I barely knew than I did in my own apartment. I felt like the world outside was full of people like Marcus who would use me, but inside there, there was a strange kind of honesty.

Killian stopped the bike and waited for me to get off. I handed him the helmet.

"Thank you for the breakfast," I said.

He leaned forward, his eyes locking onto mine. "Don't think this means you're free, little bird. I'll see you soon."

He revved the engine and sped off before I could even reply. I stood on the sidewalk, watching him disappear, wondering how my life had turned into this