Chapter Two

HAZEL POV

I didn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt Killian’s breath against my ear, echoing his twisted promise. Whoever breaks her first wins.

By 8:00 AM, I was squeezed into the back row of the university’s largest lecture hall, hoping three hundred students could shield me. I pulled my oversized hoodie tight, keeping my eyes glued to my notebook.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Mila whispered, settling into the seat beside me.

"Just tired," I lied, my fingers tightening around my pen.

"Did you see the campus forum this morning?" Winter asked, leaning across Mila. Her sharp eyes were wide. "Someone uploaded a video from the party last night. Jason Jax forcing a girl to drink."

My heart stopped. "Did you see who it was?"

"No, the lighting was too dark," Winter said, frowning. "But whoever she is, the bikers are hunting her."

My stomach dropped. I kept my eyes on my notebook, gripping my pen so tight my knuckles ached. Winter and Mila bid me goodbye going to their classes but my mind was stuck on the video. If they found that video, if anyone connected the dots back to me—

The heavy oak doors of the lecture hall banged open.

The low hum of student chatter died instantly. Professor Vance stopped mid-sentence at the podium. I didn't need to look up to know who it was. The sudden, suffocating shift in the room's atmosphere told me everything.

Killian Blackwood walked down the stepped aisle.

He didn't have his motorcycle jacket on, just a tight black t-shirt that showed off the dark ink climbing up his arms. Lucian and Jason flanked him like guard dogs. They didn't look like students; they looked like rulers checking on their territory.

Killian’s cold gaze swept over the rows of desks. I instantly ducked my head, my long black hair falling forward to cover my face. Don't look. Please don't look.

"Blackwood, Jax, Vane," Professor Vance said, his tone tight but entirely submissive. "You are late. Take your seats."

They didn't move toward the empty front rows. Killian kept walking up the stairs, straight toward the back. Every step of his heavy boots felt like a countdown clock inside my chest.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over my desk.

"You're in my seat, freshman," Jason Jax barked.

I looked up, trembling. Jason was staring at a girl who immediately turned pale.

"There are plenty of empty seats down there," the girl’s friend snapped back.

"I didn't ask you," Jason sneered, leaning over the desk. "I told her to move."

The girl grabbed her backpack, her eyes wide with terror, and practically scrambled down the stairs to escape him. Jason chuckled, sliding into her vacant seat right next to me. Before I could even breathe, the seat on my left squeaked.

Killian sat down.

He slid his long legs under the small desk, his shoulder instantly brushing against mine. The forced physical proximity made my skin burn. The scent of rain and mint enveloped me, trapping me between the two wolves.

"Good morning, sweetpea," Killian whispered, his low voice for my ears only.

I stared straight ahead at the professor, my jaw clenched so hard it ached. "Leave me alone, Killian."

"We're just classmates, Hazel. Why so hostile?" He leaned back, spinning a expensive silver pen between his long fingers. "Though, I don't think classmates keep secrets from each other."

"I don't have any secrets," I muttered, my voice shaking despite my best efforts.

"Really?" Killian tilted his head, his dark eyes locking onto the side of my face. "Because I just finished editing a very interesting video from last night. The lighting was bad, but with a little digital cleanup, your face is crystal clear."

My breath hitched. I turned my head to look at him. "You wouldn't."

"Try me," he murmured, his thumb hovering over his phone screen. "One click, and the entire campus sees the girl who used to cry in the London dirt. I wonder how your new friends will look at you then."

"What do you want?" Tears of anger pricked my eyes.

Killian’s gaze dropped to my trembling lips, his eyes darkening with a dangerous, possessive intensity. He stood up suddenly, slamming his hand on my desk. The loud crack echoed through the silent lecture hall.

"Miss Frensby, Mr. Blackwood, is there a problem?" Professor Vance called out from the front.

"No problem, Professor," Killian said, his eyes never leaving mine. "Hazel was just leaving with me. She volunteered to help me with a project."

"I did not—" I started, but Jason shifted beside me, his hot-headed gaze a silent threat.

"Pack your bags, Hazel," Killian commanded softly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Don't make me upload it."

Humiliated, with three hundred pairs of eyes staring at me, I shoved my notebook into my bag. My hands shook so badly I dropped my pen. Killian picked it up, his cold fingers brushing against mine as he handed it back.

I stood up and walked down the steps, Killian following closely behind me like a shadow. The moment the heavy lecture doors shut behind us, cutting off the classroom, Killian gripped my elbow and pulled me into the empty, dimly lit hallway.

He pinned me against the lockers, his tall frame completely blocking the exit.

"Let go of me!" I choked out, pushing against his solid chest.

"Listen to me carefully," Killian whispered, his face inches from mine. His grip on my arm tightened, not enough to bruise, but enough to anchor me. "You belong to this school now, which means you belong to me. You will meet me at the campus garage at midnight tonight."

"And if I don't?" I defied, staring straight into his pitch-black eyes.

Killian smiled, a slow, toxic curve of his lips that sent a chill straight down my spine. He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.

"Then the video goes live at 12:01," he breathed. "And I'll make sure your friends find out exactly what happened to you in London."