Falling for My Greatest Nemesis

Chapter…eight

HAZEL POV

The basement was silent except for my footsteps. I hugged my economics notes to my chest and kept walking, my heart pounding.

Killian was already there.

He sat low, his long legs stretched out under the table, ankles crossed. He wore a dark grey t-shirt that clung to the hard lines of his chest. Between his fingers, he casually flipped open his silver lighter. Click. Flash. Click. Flash. The brief bursts of amber light illuminated his pitch-black eyes and the sharp angle of his jaw.

"You're two minutes late, sweetpea," he murmured without looking up.

"The dormitory proctor was checking the halls," I said, my voice cold as I walked over. I dropped the stack of papers onto the table with a hard thud. "Here are the chapter analyses you demanded. Everything is annotated. We are done for the night."

Killian closed the lighter with a sharp snap. The sudden quiet was suffocating. He slowly lifted his head, his freezing gaze tracking me from my face down to my plain green t-shirt.

"Where's my hoodie, Hazel?"

"In my bag," I muttered, crossing my arms. "I'm not wearing your clothes around campus. People are already talking. The forum—"

"I don't give a damn about the forum," Killian interrupted, standing up. He walked around the table, his heavy boots making no sound at all. "And I don't give a damn about what the sheep on this campus think. If I put my clothes on your back, you wear them."

"I am a scholarship student, Killian!" I snapped, backing up until my thighs hit the edge of the wooden table. "Unlike you, I can actually get kicked out of Legacy Thorne. My friends won't even look at me. Winter moved her seat across the room today because she thinks I’m keeping secrets from her and what you did to Conner."

At the mention of Conner's name, Killian’s jaw clenched, a dangerous flash of fire sparking in his dark eyes. He stepped closer, crowding me until I could feel the heat radiating off his body.

"I told you what would happen if someone touched what belongs to me," he whispered, his voice dropping into that terrifyingly smooth, low register.

"I don't belong to you!" I spat back, shoving my hands against his chest.

Killian didn't budge. Instead, his large hands shot out, wrapping firmly around my wrists. He didn't squeeze hard enough to bruise, but his grip was like iron, pinning my hands flat against his chest. I could feel the rapid, heavy thud of his heartbeat beneath his shirt.

"Two more weeks, Hazel," he breathed, leaning down until his lips were inches from mine. "Until then, your time belongs to me. If I see another guy look at you the way he did, I won't just break his jaw. I'll destroy his entire life."

"You're a psychopath," I whispered, my breathing turning shallow. I hated how much his proximity affected my pulse, hated that my body betrayed me even when my mind screamed in disgust.

His gaze dropped to my lips, heavy and deliberate. The tension in the air snapped.

Killian let go of my wrists, but before I could pull away, his hand cupped the back of my neck, his long fingers tangling fiercely into my hair. He pulled my head back, forcing my mouth to meet his in a harsh, possessive crash.

My breath hitched in my throat. The kiss wasn't an invitation, it was a demand. It was dominant, hungry, and filled with a dark, unhinged control that left me completely breathless. His lips were hot, bruising against mine, forcing a quiet gasp from my throat. A violent shiver tore down my spine. I clawed at his chest, trying to push him away, but he only pulled me tighter against him, his thumb pressing hard against my jawline to tilt my face deeper into the assault.

This wasn't romance. It was a battle. And when he finally pulled away, my lips were burning and my chest was heaving with pure, unadulterated fury. I immediately brought my hand up and slapped him across the face.

The sharp c***k echoed through the empty basement.

Killian’s head snapped to the side. The room fell into a deadly, freezing silence.

I stood there, my hand trembling, my chest rising and falling as I glared at him with everything I had. "Don't you ever touch me like that again."

Slowly, Killian turned his head back to face me. He didn't look angry. He didn't look shocked. Instead, a slow, terrifying smile tugged at the corner of his lips. His pitch-black eyes lit up with a wild, predatory gleam that made my blood run completely cold. He liked it. He liked that I fought back.

"There's that fire," he whispered, his voice dangerously smooth as he stepped even closer, his shadow completely swallowing me. "I told you, sweetpea. I love it when you fight me."

He snatched his leather jacket off the chair, throwing it over his shoulder, and walked toward the basement stairs without another word, leaving me alone in the dark.

I collapsed onto the wooden chair, my lips stinging, my mind reeling in absolute horror. I wasn't sinking into any feelings, I was trapped in a room with a monster, and I had just reminded him exactly why he wanted to break me.