Chapter 12
1092 Words
Casey doesn’t remember falling asleep.
She remembers staring at the ceiling.
Remembering his mouth.
His hand on her thigh.
The way he pulled away.
And then nothing.
When she wakes, sunlight is pouring through her window.
For one blissful second, she forgets where she is.
Then she feels it.
The bond.
Warm. Awake.
Aware.
Her breath catches.
Across the hall.
She sits up slowly.
Her door is still open.
So is his.
Her heart starts racing immediately.
She swings her legs out of bed and stands, drawn without thinking.
Down the hallway, she can see him.
He’s already awake.
Leaning against his dresser.
Shirtless.
Watching her.
Like he’s been standing there for a while.
Waiting.
Her stomach flips violently.
“Good morning,” he says.
His voice is lower than usual.
Rough from lack of sleep.
She swallows. “Did you sleep?”
“No.”
Her lips part slightly.
“Me neither.”
A faint smirk touches his mouth.
“I know.”
Heat floods her cheeks.
He pushes off the dresser and walks toward her.
Slow.
Unhurried.
Dangerous.
Every step feels deliberate.
She doesn’t move.
Her body refuses.
When he stops in front of her, there’s barely an inch between them.
Close enough that she can feel the warmth of his skin.
Close enough that her breath brushes his chest.
“You left your door open,” he murmurs.
“So did you.”
“I wanted to hear you.”
Her pulse spikes.
“I wanted to know you were there.”
The admission does something to her.
Something soft.
Something dangerous.
“You were,” she whispers.
His hand lifts.
Slow.
Intentional.
He brushes his knuckles lightly down her arm.
Just once.
The smallest touch.
Her breath stutters like he’s done something far more intimate.
“You’re flushed,” he says quietly.
“You’re staring.”
“I am.”
Silence swells between them.
Thick.
Heavy.
He leans down slightly, his mouth hovering near her ear.
“You taste like last night,” he murmurs.
Her knees nearly give out.
His hand slides to her waist.
Firm.
Possessive.
Not inappropriate.
But claiming.
She grips his shoulders automatically.
“I have class,” she whispers weakly.
He doesn’t move away.
“I know.”
“You’re not making it easy.”
“That’s not my goal.”
The bond pulses sharply.
Hungry.
He lowers his forehead to hers.
Breathing her in.
“You have no idea how hard it was to walk away,” he says.
Her heart pounds.
“You did.”
“Barely.”
His thumb presses lightly into her hip.
Her body responds instantly.
She presses closer without meaning to.
A soft sound escapes her throat.
That’s what breaks the moment.
His eyes darken instantly.
“Casey.”
Her name is warning and want wrapped together.
She swallows.
“If we don’t stop…”
“We won’t,” he finishes.
And that’s the truth.
He exhales slowly and forces himself back.
One step.
Two.
Distance.
The loss of his heat feels immediate.
Cold.
“You should get ready,” he says, voice tight. “I’m taking you to campus.”
Reality crashes back in.
Campus.
Guards.
Rogues.
She nods, trying to steady her breathing.
He drags a hand through his hair.
“I’ve already assigned two warriors to stay within sight at all times.”
Her brows lift. “Miles.”
“It’s not negotiable.”
“I don’t need—”
“You do.”
The Alpha edge slips into his voice.
Not harsh.
But firm.
“They boxed us in last night,” he continues. “That wasn’t random.”
She knows that.
The memory tightens her chest.
He steps closer again — this time less heat, more protection.
“They don’t get another chance.”
Her throat tightens.
“You’re going to make everyone stare.”
“I don’t care.”
He lifts her chin gently.
“Let them stare.”
The possessiveness in that statement sends a shiver down her spine.
“Go get dressed,” he says softly.
She turns toward her room.
Halfway there, she pauses.
“Miles.”
He looks at her immediately.
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
His expression softens.
“For what?”
“For walking away.”
Something dangerous flickers in his eyes again.
“Don’t thank me yet.”
An hour later, they’re in the car.
The tension hasn’t eased.
It’s worse.
She can feel him beside her.
Hyper-aware.
The way his hand rests on the steering wheel.
The way his jaw tightens every time she shifts in her seat.
Two black SUVs follow behind them.
Obvious.
Intimidating.
“This is ridiculous,” she mutters.
“It’s necessary.”
She glances at him.
“You’re overprotective.”
“Yes.”
No denial.
No apology.
When they pull onto campus, heads turn immediately.
Students stare at the vehicles.
At him.
At her.
Miles steps out and walks around to her side.
Opens her door.
Offers his hand.
Publicly.
Claiming.
Her pulse jumps.
She takes it.
His hand settles at the small of her back as they walk toward the building.
Two warriors fall into step several feet behind them.
“Subtle,” she murmurs.
He leans down slightly near her ear.
“I don’t do subtle when it comes to you.”
Her heart skips.
They stop near the entrance.
Students whisper openly now.
She turns to him.
“You don’t have to walk me in.”
“I know.”
He does anyway.
Inside the lobby, he finally stops.
His hand slides from her back to her waist.
Holding her there.
Just for a second.
“You go to class,” he says quietly. “They stay outside your lecture hall.”
She nods.
His thumb brushes lightly against her side.
“You call me if anything feels off.”
“I will.”
He studies her face.
Softens slightly.
“You smell nervous.”
“I am.”
He leans down.
Kisses her slowly.
Not rushed.
Not restrained.
Just enough to make her forget where they are.
When he pulls back, his voice drops lower.
“Be careful.”
Her heart pounds.
“Come get me after?”
“I’ll be here.”
And she believes him.
As she walks away, she can feel his gaze on her.
Protective.
Possessive.
Watching.
And for the first time since moving in, she realizes—
This isn’t just about rogues anymore.
This is about stepping into something bigger.
And the entire campus just saw it.
- Writer
