CHAPTER 22
1240 Words
ADINNA’S POV
The dorm corridors are half-lit and the air is thick with the scent of damp stone and rain from the open courtyard. I came out only to clear my head, but the universe clearly has other plans.
Hunter steps out of the shadows like a problem I’ve been pretending doesn’t exist. His uniform shirt is rumpled and his eyes are too bright. A glass bottle is hanging loosely from his hand, the liquid sloshing as he sways.
“Well, look who it is,” he drawls. “The human miracle. The reason our precious Alpha of the West can’t focus anymore.”
I stiffen. “You’re drunk.”
He laughs, a rough sound that scrapes down my spine. “Drunk, sure. But not blind.” His fingers tighten around the bottle. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to him?”
I try to sidestep but his hand shoots out and catches my arm. The grip is bruising as the heat of his skin cuts through the fabric of my sleeve.
“Hunter, let go.”
“You made him soft.” He leans closer, his breath sharp with whiskey. “He used to be ruthless but now he hesitates. He hesitates because of you.”
“I didn’t ask him to.” My voice wavers, but I refuse to back down.
Hunter’s eyes gleam with something scary. “You think you’re safe because he looks at you like you matter? You’re not safe. You’re a distraction.”
The door at the end of the hall creaks open and a heavy silence drops like a storm.
“Let. Her. Go.”
Jace’s voice is quiet, and lethal.
Hunter’s grip tightens once more before he turns. Jace fills the doorway, his shoulders squared and his expression is carved from fury. The air seems to vibrate around him. Even the shadows seem to recoil.
“Back off, Jace,” Hunter says, though his tone lacks conviction. “I’m just telling her the truth.”
“Wrong move,” Jace murmurs.
Before I can even blink, he is across the room. The sound of impact as Hunter’s back hits the wall echoes like thunder. The bottle shatters at my feet, the shards glittering like ice.
“Still think this is funny?” Jace’s voice is calm, which somehow makes it worse.
Hunter’s smirk falters and then returns but it appears to be small and shakey. “You’ve really lost it, man. Over her?”
“Walk away before I forget we’re friends.”
The words come out low and dangerous. Something raw flickers in Hunter’s eyes and then he glances at me and smirks again. “Good luck surviving him, sweetheart.”
Jace drops him. Hunter staggers, rubbing his throat, and stumbles down the corridor without looking back.
Silence falls again and I hear Jace’s ragged breathing. The murderous light in his eyes dim as he turns to face me.
“You shouldn’t be out here,” he says finally.
“I was just walking.”
His jaw clenches. “You make me lose control.”
The confession hits harder than I expected. “That’s not my fault.”
He studies me and his gaze softens for a heartbeat before his usual expression slides back into place. “Maybe not. But it’s still true.”
And then he walks away, leaving me standing amid the shards of glass with my heart pounding like it’s trying to claw out of my chest.
I don’t sleep much that night. Every time I close my eyes, I see the flash of Jace’s eyes in the dark hallway. His words loop in my mind until they tangle with my dreams.
In the dream, Jace isn’t angry but he’s close. Too close. His voice brushes my ear, warm and dangerous.
You make me lose control.
His fingers trail fire down my spine and I wake up gasping and furious at myself for the way my body betrayed me.
Morning comes pale and heavy. I drag myself out of bed, the air still sharp with the scent of rain. A quick shower does little to chase away the restless energy pulsing under my skin.
The knock at my door makes me jump.
“Come in,” I say, tugging on my sweater.
Dean enters, balancing a tray of food like it’s the most normal thing in the world. His smile is small but real with that lazy confidence he wears so easily.
“You look like someone who just wrestled a ghost,” he says as he sets the tray on my desk.
“Something like that.” I say as I sit on the bed and tuck my legs beneath me.
“Hunter?” he asks.
The single word makes my stomach twist. “How did you know?”
“Word gets around,” Dean interrupts gently. “Jace nearly broke his jaw.”
“He deserved it.”
Dean’s mouth quirks. “Can’t argue with that.” He pushes the tray toward me. “Eat. You look pale.”
“I’m fine.”
“You say that a lot.”
“I mean it this time.”
He gives me that look. The one that feels like he can see straight through the words I don’t say. Then he sinks into the chair opposite me with his elbows on his knees.
“You’ve been quiet lately,” he says. “Even for you.”
I fiddle with the edge of my sleeve. “Just tired.”
“Tired or distracted?”
“Both.”
He gives a low chuckle. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”
Despite myself, I smile. It’s small and hesitant, but it’s real. Dean has that effect on people. He disarms you without even trying.
We sit in silence for a while. The dorm buzzes faintly with students heading to dinner, the world moving on as if mine hadn’t just tilted. Dean leans back, studying me with a kind of quiet patience that makes my chest ache.
“You don’t have to do that,” I say softly.
“Do what?”
“Pretend everything’s normal.”
He tilts his head. “Who says I’m pretending?”
I look down at my hands, unsure of how to answer. The space between us feels fragile, like a thread pulled too tight.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I say finally.
“Probably not.” He smiles. “But I wanted to check on you.”
“Because Jace told you to?”
That earns me a genuine laugh. “No. Because I wanted to.”
His eyes meet mine, and for a second the air feels warm.
He reaches out and brushes his fingers lightly against my wrist. “You know, you keep doing that thing where you disappear inside your head. Makes it hard to tell if you’re actually here or just pretending to be.”
“I’m here,” I whisper.
“Good.”
He leans in a little closer with an unreadable expression. The scent of rain and coffee clings to him in a comforting way that makes my heart twist.
“Adinna,” he says quietly. “Can I ask you something?”
I nod, unable to speak.
He studies me for a moment longer, and with the faintest smile tugging at his lips, he asks, “You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”
- Writer
