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

I woke up with a start, the sunlight hitting my face much later than it was supposed to. I scrambled for my phone and groaned when I saw the time. I was late. Not just a little late, but "Professor Blackwood is going to kill me" late.

I didn't even have time to think about Killian or the weird feeling of his leather vest against my back. I threw on a high-necked sweater to hide the mark, grabbed my bag, and sprinted toward the law building. My lungs were burning by the time I reached the hallway outside the lecture hall.

"Elena! Wait up!"

I stopped, gasping for air, as Jax caught up to me. He looked cheerful, which was the last thing I needed right now.

"You missed the first twenty minutes," Jax whispered, leaning against the locker next to me. "Blackwood is in a mood today. He's already torn three people apart for not knowing the case law."

"Great," I muttered, trying to straighten my hair. "Just what I need."

Jax laughed and reached out, playfully nudging my shoulder. "Relax. You're his favorite student, even if he acts like a robot. Here, I took notes on the first part for you."

He held out his tablet, and I leaned in to look at the screen. Jax said something funny about the way one of the senior students had stuttered, and for a second, I actually forgot to be terrified. I let out a genuine laugh, my head tilting back.

In that moment, I felt a heavy, cold sensation on the back of my neck. It wasn't the mark. it was the feeling of being watched.

I looked toward the classroom door. It was cracked open just an inch. Through the gap, I saw a flash of silver spectacles and a pair of blue eyes so dark they looked like a storm at sea. Alaric was standing in the shadows of the doorway, watching me and Jax. He didn't move. He didn't say anything. He just watched until I stopped laughing.

"I have to go in," I whispered, my stomach doing a nervous flip.

"See you in there," Jax said, still smiling.

I walked into the room, keeping my head down. The silence was immediate. Alaric was already back at his podium, his hands gripped so tightly on the wood that his knuckles were white.

"Miss Vance," he said. His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the room like a blade. "So nice of you to join us. I assume whatever was happening in the hallway was far more important than the foundations of criminal intent?"

"I'm sorry, Professor. I overslept."

"Sit down," he snapped.

For the next forty minutes, Alaric was a nightmare. He didn't just teach; he attacked. He called on me every five minutes. He asked me questions so complex that I had to stumble through the answers, and every time I hesitated, he would humiliate me in front of the class.

"Is the law a joke to you, Elena?" he asked, standing right in front of my desk. "You seem very interested in socializing, yet you can't even define a simple breach of duty today. Is your mind elsewhere? Perhaps on a motorcycle?"

My heart stopped. How did he know? I looked up at him, my eyes stinging with tears of frustration. "I'm trying, Professor."

"Try harder," he whispered, so low only I could hear. "Because right now, you are failing me. Stay after class. We are going to discuss your lack of focus."

When the bell rang, the other students scrambled out as fast as they could. Jax gave me a worried look, but Alaric cleared his throat sharply, and Jax hurried away. I stood by my desk, my hands shaking as I packed my bag.

Alaric walked to the door and turned the lock. The click sounded like a death sentence.

"Come to the front," he said.

I walked down to his desk. "I'm sorry I was late. It won't happen again."

"No, it won't," he said. He walked around me, his presence heavy and suffocating. "I saw you out there. Laughing. Touching that boy. Do you think I marked you just so you could go out and play with children?"

"Jax is just a friend! And you told me you didn't even know me! You said you weren't at the bar!" I shouted, finally snapping.

Alaric moved so fast I didn't see it coming.

He grabbed my arm and steered me toward the far corner of the room, near the large windows that were now dark with the evening.

"Face the wall," he commanded.

"What? No!"

"Face the wall, Elena. Now."

His voice had a strange power to it, a vibration that made my muscles obey before my brain could protest. I turned and faced the corner, my forehead almost touching the cool plaster.

"Put your hands behind your back," he said, his voice right behind my ear.

I did it. I felt like a child, but I couldn't stop myself. I heard him pacing behind me, the steady thud of his expensive shoes on the floor.

"You will stand there and think about where you belong," Alaric said. "You will think about the fact that while you were laughing with that boy, you don't belong to him."

"You're crazy," I whispered to the wall.

"I am many things, Elena. Patient is not one of them."

He didn't touch me, but he stood so close that I could feel the heat of his body. He started talking, his voice a deep, commanding baritone that seemed to fill my entire head. He talked about discipline. He talked about how a girl like me needed a firm hand to keep her from ruining her future.

Every word he spoke felt like a physical touch. My skin began to tingle. A dull ache started in my lower belly, a deep, heavy longing that made me want to lean back into him. I hated it. I hated how much power his voice had over me.

"Do you understand why you are in this corner?" he asked.

"Because you're jealous," I choked out.

I heard him stop pacing. He moved in until he was pressed against my back, his chest solid against my shoulder blades. He reached around and gripped my chin, forcing me to look slightly to the side, though I was still facing the wall.

"I am not jealous of a boy like that," Alaric whispered. His breath was hot against my neck, right over the mark. "But I do not like people touching what is mine. You are a Blackwood girl now, Elena. Whether you want to be or not."

He let go of my chin and leaned down, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of my ear.

"If I ever see you look at another boy like that again," he said, his voice dropping to a terrifyingly soft level, "the punishment won't be a corner. It will be your dignity. I will take it from you in front of everyone, and you will thank me for it."

He stepped back and I heard the lock click open.

"Go home. And don't be late tomorrow."

I didn't turn around. I kept my face to the wall until I heard his office door shut. When I finally moved, my legs were so weak I almost fell. I grabbed my bag and ran out into the cold night air, my mind screaming.

He was my professor. He was a monster. And as I walked home, all I could feel was the ghost of his voice making my blood sing