The morning After

I woke up before my alarm even had a chance to beep. The room was freezing, but my skin felt like it was on fire. I stayed under the covers for a long time, staring at the chipped white paint on my ceiling.

My life felt like a joke. A week ago, my biggest worry was whether Marcus and I would ever be able to afford a real apartment after graduation. Now, Marcus was gone, and I was being hunted by three different men who looked like they stepped out of a nightmare and a magazine at the same time. I was a scholarship student with no money, a broken heart, and a weird glowing mark on my neck.

"Pathetic," I whispered to the empty room.

I scoffed at myself, throwing the blankets back. I couldn't afford to be a victim. If I missed class or let my grades slip, I’d be back in the town I worked so hard to leave, working a dead-end job for the rest of my life.

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and peeled back the bandage I’d put over my neck. The skin was still tender, and the two puncture marks were a deep, angry red. They didn't look like a hickey anymore. They looked fucking weird.

"Just a weird infection," I said to my reflection. "Or a reaction to the metal in the jewelry I don't even wear."

I applied a thick layer of heavy concealer, then topped it with a high-neck sweater. It was itchy and uncomfortable, but it was better than people seeing it and asking questions. I grabbed my bag, shoved my phone deep into my pocket so I wouldn't have to look at those three terrifying texts, and headed for the law building.

The campus was busy. Students were drinking coffee and laughing, complaining about midterms as if the world was normal. I kept my head down, my heart thumping against my ribs. Every time a motorcycle hummed in the distance, I flinched.

I reached the lecture hall ten minutes early. I took my usual seat in the back, trying to blend into the shadows. I just wanted to get through this hour without Alaric looking at me.

"You look like you haven't slept in a week, Elena."

I jumped, nearly knocking my coffee over. It was Jax, a guy from my study group. He sat down next to me, looking concerned.

"Just a long night of studying," I said, forced a smile.

"Right. Law will do that to you," Jax said. "Hey, did you hear about the fight in the library parking lot last night? Someone said a biker nearly killed a guy. Police were there this morning asking questions."

My blood ran cold. "I didn't hear anything."

"Lucky you. This town is getting weird," Jax muttered, opening his laptop.

The door at the front of the room swung open. The chatter died down instantly. Alaric walked in, his black coat billowing slightly behind him. He looked perfect—not a hair out of place, his glasses catching the light. He looked like a god of law and order.

He set his briefcase on the podium and scanned the room. His eyes passed over me without stopping, but I felt a pull in my chest that made it hard to breathe.

"Today, we are discussing the ethics of coercion," Alaric said, his voice echoing. "Specifically, when a contract is signed under duress. Can a person truly be held to a promise they made when they were afraid?"

He started pacing. He was a great teacher, but I couldn't focus on the words. All I could think about was the text he sent. See you in class, Elena.

Halfway through the lecture, he stopped right in front of my row. He wasn't looking at me, but he was close enough that I could smell him.

"Miss Vance," he said.

I stiffened. "Yes, Professor?"

"If a man offers you safety in exchange for your freedom, is that a fair trade?"

The room went silent. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. I looked up at him, and for a second, the mask of the professor slipped. His blue eyes darkened, becoming that deep, predatory color I saw in the bar.

"No," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "Freedom isn't something you trade. If it’s forced, it isn't a trade at all. It’s a crime."

Alaric tilted his head, a small, cruel smile touching his lips. "A very textbook answer. But in the real world, Elena, some people don't give you a choice. Some people simply take what they want because they have the power to keep it."

He turned on his heel and walked back to the podium. "Class dismissed. Miss Vance, stay behind. We need to discuss your last essay."

Jax gave me a sympathetic look as he packed up. "Good luck. He looks like he’s in a mood today."

"Thanks," I whispered.

I waited until the last student left. I didn't move from my seat. Alaric stayed at the podium, clicking his pen. The sound felt like a ticking bomb.

"Come here," he commanded.

I walked down the stairs, stopping at the front row. "I didn't turn in an essay yesterday, Professor. We both know that."

Alaric looked up. He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I didn't ask you here to talk about school, Elena."

"Then why? To tell me you didn't send that text? To tell me you weren't the man who fucked me?"

He stood up and walked toward me. I backed away until I hit the edge of a desk. He didn't stop until he was inches away. He reached out, his hand wrapping around the back of my neck. His thumb pressed right against the spot where the mark was hidden under my sweater.

I gasped, my eyes fluttering shut. The heat was back, moving through my body like a drug.

"You're making this very difficult," he whispered.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, my voice breaking. "You act like you don't know me in front of the class, and then you touch me like... like you own me."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Miss Vance," he said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble. "I'm simply making sure you're paying attention. You seem to have a habit of wandering off into dangerous places."

"Like the Neon Moon?" I challenged.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my ear. "I have never been to such a place. But if I had, I certainly wouldn't have let you leave so easily."

He let go of me suddenly and stepped back, putting his glasses back on. The cold professor was back.

"Go to your next class, Elena. Try to stay focused. You wouldn't want to lose that scholarship over a few... distractions."

I stared at him, my mouth dry. I turned and ran out of the room. I didn't go to my next class. I ran straight for the side exit of the building. My mind was a mess. Alaric was lying, I knew he was, but why? And how could I feel this way about him when Silas was so kind, and that biker...

I reached the courtyard and stopped, leaning against a tree to catch my breath. My phone vibrated. I pulled it out, my hands shaking.

12:15 PM: “Don't even think about the back exit, little bird. I’m already watching you. — K”

I looked around wildly. Across the courtyard, sitting on a black motorcycle near the library, was Killian. He was leaning against his handlebars, staring straight at me. He raised a hand in a slow, mocking wave.

I was trapped. I felt like a deer caught in the sights of three different hunters.