No one Takes What is Mine.

The crisp Christmas Eve air bit Annie’s exposed cheeks, painting them a rosy red. Stone buildings, centuries old, huddled together along the cobbled street, their eaves dusted with a fine powder of snow. Twinkling fairy lights, strung haphazardly, cast a warm glow against the deepening twilight. Inside ‘The Gilded Quill,’ a tiny shop smelling of old paper and cinnamon, she traced the spine of a leather-bound poetry collection. Freddy loved Keats. A perfect gift. Her phone buzzed. Meg’s name flashed across the screen. “Hey, where are you?” Annie pressed the phone to her ear, tucking a stray strand of dark hair behind it. A nervous laugh crackled through the speaker. “Just… finishing up some last-minute shopping. You?” “Almost done. Found a book for Freddy. You want to grab some hot chocolate before heading back?” A beat of silence stretched. “Actually, I can’t. Something came up. I’ll meet you back at the apartment later.” Meg’s voice, usually a bright chime, sounded strained. A prickle of unease snaked up Annie’s spine. “Is everything alright? You sound…” “Fine! I’m fine. Just busy. See you.” The line went dead. Annie frowned. Meg never cut their calls short, especially not on Christmas Eve. A knot tightened in her stomach. She paid for the book; the weight of it was suddenly heavy in her hands. The knot pulled tighter as she walked, her boots crunching on the thin layer of ice. Her apartment building, another ancient structure with a sturdy oak door, loomed ahead. A sliver of light escaped from under their door. She fumbled with her keys, the cold making her fingers clumsy. The door creaked open. A low murmur of voices drifted from the living room. Freddy’s laugh. Meg’s giggle, too close, too intimate. Annie’s breath hitched. She stepped inside, the poetry book slipping from her grasp, thudding softly on the worn rug. Freddy sat on the sofa, his arm around Meg’s shoulders. Meg, perched beside him, leaned into his embrace, her fingers tracing patterns on his shirt. They froze, their faces paling as they turned. “Annie!” Meg’s voice rose, a sharp, artificial gasp. She scrambled away from Freddy, her eyes wide with a practised innocence. Freddy stood, his handsome face a mask of guilt. “Annie, I can explain.” Annie’s gaze flickered between them, a cold wave washing over her. Her world, once so steady, tilted precariously. “Explain what? That my best friend is wearing my boyfriend’s sweater? That you’re both on my couch, on Christmas Eve?” Her voice, though a whisper, felt like a roar in her ears. Meg wrung her hands. “It’s not what it looks like, Annie. We were just… talking.” “Talking?” Annie’s gaze sharpened, cutting through Meg’s flimsy excuse. “With your hands in his hair? With his arm around you like that?” A tremor ran through her. The betrayal tasted like ash. Freddy stepped forward, reaching for her. “Annie, please. I messed up. We both did.” “Don’t touch me!” Annie recoiled, her voice cracking. Her eyes burned, but no tears fell. Not yet. “You two… You two deserve each other.” She spun on her heel, the door slamming behind her, echoing the shattering of her heart. She stumbled down the steps, the chill outside suddenly welcome against her flushed face. The bustling street became a blur. She collided with a solid wall of warmth, nearly toppling over. Strong hands gripped her arms, steadying her. “Watch where you’re going, little one.” A deep voice, smooth as river stones, rumbled above her. Annie looked up, her vision still swimming. Professor Dane. His grey eyes, usually so calm, held a sudden intensity. They seemed to pierce through her, seeing past the shock to the raw wound beneath. “Professor Dane,” she managed, her voice thick with unshed tears. His thumb brushed a tear from her cheek she hadn’t realized had fallen. “What happened?” His gaze hardened, shifting from her to the apartment building, then back. A low growl, like distant thunder, vibrated in his chest. His pupils dilated, the grey irises beginning to bleed into a molten amber. Annie shivered, not from the cold. “He… Freddy.” She couldn’t form the words; the image of Meg and Freddy burned behind her eyelids. Dane’s grip tightened, not painfully, but possessively. His head tilted, his nostrils flaring slightly. “He hurt you.” It wasn’t a question. The amber in his eyes intensified, glowing like embers in the twilight. His scent, usually a faint pine and rain, now carried an undertone of something wild, untamed. “Yes,” Annie whispered, a single tear escaping, tracing a path down her cheek. His eyes, now fully amber, fixed on her. “No one hurts what’s mine.” A primal dominance resonated in his voice, a sound that bypassed her ears and settled deep in her bones. He pulled her closer, his warmth enveloping her, shielding her from the biting cold, from the world. “You are mine.” The low rumble in Dane’s chest intensified, a primal sound that vibrated through Annie’s bones. His amber eyes, burning with an almost feral intensity, flickered towards the oak door of her apartment building. A muscle twitched in his jaw. “They will pay for this,” he growled, his voice a low, dangerous thrum. He took a step, his powerful frame tensing, clearly intending to march right back inside. Annie, despite the shock and pain still coursing through her, placed a hand on his arm, her touch surprisingly firm. “No.” Her voice was quiet but held an unexpected steel. “Don’t.” Dane paused, his gaze snapping back at her, confusion marred with fury in his molten eyes. “What? You would let them get away with it?” The word ‘them’ was laced with venom. A small, bitter smile touched Annie’s lips. “Oh, they won’t get away with anything. Not with my plans.” Her eyes, still red-rimmed, held a new, fierce spark. “This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.” She pulled her hand away from his arm, clenching her fists. “But I don’t need you to smash their faces in right now. That’s too… easy for them.” Dane’s growl softened to a frustrated sigh, though the amber in his eyes remained. He studied her, his gaze intense, as if trying to decipher the depths of her sudden resolve. “Plans?” he questioned, a hint of curiosity entering his tone. “Yes. Plans.” Annie shivered, a fresh wave of cold seeping into her bones, but it was the emotional chill that truly pierced her. “But I can’t think about them here. Not now. I just… I need to get away from this place.” Her voice wavered slightly, the brave front threatening to c***k. “Please, Dane. Just… take me somewhere else. Anywhere.” He looked at her, his amber eyes softening slightly, the raw protectiveness still evident but now tempered with a surprising gentleness. The low hum in his chest, previously a threat, became a comforting vibration. “Alright, little one.” He nodded slowly, his broad shoulders relaxing fractionally. “Wherever you need to go.” He gently took her hand, his fingers warm and strong, his touch sending a strange, electric current through her. “Come.” With a final, lingering glance at the apartment building where her world had just imploded, Annie allowed him to lead her away, his powerful presence a solid anchor in her suddenly chaotic universe. The biting wind still whipped around them, but wrapped in Dane’s unspoken promise, a fragile sense of hope began to stir within her.