Ava wasn't sure how to act normal anymore.
Every glance from Nicholas made her pulse spike, every brush past him felt deliberate, every casual smile from Liam only reminded her that her heart didn't belong anywhere else.
She tried to focus on her classes, her notes, even her assignments—but it was impossible. Nicholas Wolfe was everywhere, even when he wasn't.
It was mid-afternoon when she saw him again, sitting on the steps outside the lecture hall, arms crossed loosely, gaze fixed somewhere beyond the campus. She should have passed by, ignored him, walked past with her head high.
She didn't.
Her steps slowed. Her breath caught. She told herself it was a coincidence, that she was imagining the pull in her chest. But he saw her. Always did.
Nicholas lifted his head slowly, scanning the crowd as if to mark her out from everyone else. His eyes met hers, sharp and commanding, and the world seemed to narrow until only the space between them existed.
Ava froze.
Liam appeared beside her without warning, walking from the other direction with his usual easy smile. "Hey, want to grab some coffee after class?" he asked.
Ava hesitated. She wanted to say yes. She needed a distraction. But her eyes kept flicking to Nicholas, whose gaze had not left her once.
Nicholas noticed.
He straightened slightly, a subtle shift in posture that spoke louder than words. His presence became… heavier. The air seemed to warp around him, as though he was staking a claim without even touching her.
Liam leaned closer. "You okay?" he asked softly.
"I'm fine," Ava said quickly, forcing a smile. But her pulse betrayed her. Her fingers twitched as she subconsciously adjusted her hair, a nervous habit she couldn't hide.
Nicholas took a slow step toward her, narrowing the space between them in a way that made her chest tighten. He didn't touch her—yet—but the proximity alone was enough to make her feel caged, electrified, and unable to look anywhere else.
"Hey," Nicholas said finally, his voice low, rough with restrained intensity. "We need to talk."
Liam's brow furrowed, but he didn't argue. He could see the danger in Nicholas's gaze—the kind that made the air itself tense—and he wisely stepped back, giving them space without a word.
Ava's stomach churned. She knew this talk wouldn't be casual. She knew her pulse would betray her the moment he stepped closer.
Nicholas didn't hesitate. He closed the distance until they were mere inches apart. The warmth of his body pressed against her subtly, a silent claim that made her pulse hammer violently.
"Why are you letting him—" Nicholas began, voice low, his jaw tight, before cutting himself off abruptly. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration flickering across his face.
Ava's lips parted slightly. "Nicholas… I'm not—"
"You're here. With him," he said sharply, though his eyes softened slightly as they locked onto hers. "And I'm not… I'm not supposed to care."
Her chest tightened. "Care about what?"
"Care that someone else looks at you, talks to you, maybe even touches your hand," he admitted, voice dropping lower, barely audible. "I'm not supposed to feel it. But I do."
Ava's heart raced. She didn't say anything. She didn't need to. The tension hung between them, thick and suffocating, like a storm waiting to break.
Nicholas leaned just a little closer. Not enough to kiss, not yet. But enough that the space between them burned. Enough that Ava could feel the heat of him in her bones.
"You don't get to act normal around him," he said quietly. "Not when you're mine."
Her breath hitched. "Mine?" she whispered, caught between disbelief and longing.
His gaze softened, flickering with something unspoken, something raw. "I've tried to stay away. I've tried not to want you. But I can't. Not now. Not ever."
Ava's knees threatened to give out. She wanted to argue, to deny, to step back—but the words wouldn't form. Nicholas's presence had consumed every rational thought, every cautious instinct.
And then—just as she thought the moment might explode into something irreversible—he stepped back. Slightly. Enough to remind her that he could, enough to make her pulse pound faster in frustration and need.
"I'm not saying yes to this," he said quietly, jaw tight. "But I'm not saying no either."
Ava's breath trembled. "Nicholas…"
"Later," he said, voice low, dangerous, and thick with desire, echoing the promise he couldn't yet keep. "Later we'll talk. Later I'll decide how far I let this go."
He turned on his heel, walking away with the kind of controlled, confident stride that made her feel small, breathless, and painfully alive all at once.
Ava watched him go, unable to move, unable to speak. Every step he took away from her carved a deeper ache into her chest.
Liam cleared his throat beside her. "Uh… you okay?"
"I… yeah," she said softly, forcing a smile, but her pulse betrayed her. She was anything but okay.
Liam frowned, clearly sensing there was more than she wanted to admit. "If you want to talk… you know where to find me."
She nodded. "Thanks," she whispered, still watching Nicholas's retreating form.
And even though she tried to act normal, tried to focus on Liam, tried to breathe… she couldn't stop the truth from pulsing through her veins:
Nicholas Wolfe had her.
Not yet in touch, not yet in words, not yet in confession.
But he had claimed her in the quiet, in the way he looked at her, in the way he made her feel like she belonged only to him.
And she knew… she wouldn't be able to resist him. Not now. Not ever.