Ava had learned quickly that pretending wasn't easy.
It wasn't easy to walk down campus corridors, smiling politely at classmates, while every fiber of her being was screaming his name.
It wasn't easy to sit beside Liam during lunch, nodding and laughing at his jokes, while her eyes constantly flickered toward Nicholas Wolfe, who—predictably—was never far.
And it wasn't easy to ignore the heat that flared whenever Nicholas moved even slightly closer to her, even from across the courtyard.
The afternoon was warm, the kind of golden sun that made everything seem hazy and slow. Ava had gathered her friends—Lila, Maya, and a few others—outside the cafeteria to sit in the shade. Liam joined them, naturally fitting in with his easy smile, but Ava felt distant, caught between the warmth of his company and the magnetic pull of someone she couldn't resist.
She hadn't noticed Nicholas approaching until he was there, standing a few steps away, casual in his posture yet unmistakably deliberate.
Her breath hitched.
He didn't rush over. He didn't need to. Every movement was measured, precise, controlled—and yet it radiated an intensity she could feel in her bones.
Ava shifted slightly in her seat, trying to seem unconcerned. Liam noticed. He frowned, though he said nothing, clearly sensing that someone else's presence was more than just "around."
Nicholas's gaze found her instantly, scanning her face, her posture, as if committing every detail to memory. He leaned casually against the tree behind them, arms crossed, but the way he looked at her made her chest tighten.
Not long after, someone tried to call her attention from across the courtyard. Ava started to respond—but Nicholas's eyes darkened, a subtle warning she felt more than saw.
She froze.
When lunch ended, Liam offered to walk her back to her hostel. "I'll carry your books," he said with a shy grin. "You've got enough to worry about already."
Ava nodded, trying to focus on him, trying to find some comfort in the normalcy of his attention. But she couldn't. Because Nicholas followed—quietly, but unmistakably.
The walkway narrowed as they approached the hostel gates. Nicholas fell into step beside her. Not too close. Not too far. Just… there. A presence that crowded her senses, made her pulse spike, made her want to lean into him even as her mind screamed that she should pull away.
Liam walked ahead, chatting lightly, unaware of the tension thickening between the two of them.
Nicholas's gaze was fixed on her. "Why are you doing this?" he asked softly, his voice low, barely above a whisper, yet cutting through everything.
Ava blinked. "Doing what?"
"Pretending you're fine with him," Nicholas said, his jaw tight, eyes sharp. "Pretending you don't want me."
Her stomach twisted. "I—It's not pretending…" she started, but he cut her off.
"No," he said, voice low and dangerous, his hand lifting slightly as if to point a claim, though he didn't touch her. "Don't lie to me. You're not fine. You're not fine at all."
Ava's breath caught. The heat from his words, his gaze, pressed against her like an invisible force. She wanted to look away. She wanted to retreat. But she couldn't.
Nicholas leaned a fraction closer, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating off him, close enough that if she leaned forward, even slightly, their lips could meet.
"Stop walking ahead of me," he said quietly, almost a command, not to Liam, but to the space that separated them. "You're mine right now. Pay attention to me."
Ava's pulse thundered. She wanted to protest, wanted to say something rational—but the words refused her. His presence, his voice, his proximity—all of it made her weak in a way that terrified her.
Liam glanced back, frowning. "Is… everything okay?"
Nicholas didn't even look at him. He kept his eyes on Ava, a subtle possessiveness that marked her as his. "Everything's fine," he said, deliberately cutting Liam out of the equation without needing to say it.
When they reached a quieter part of the campus, away from most of the students, Nicholas finally stepped just close enough to make her heart race uncontrollably.
Ava's hands were clammy. Her breath was shallow. Her chest ached with tension she could no longer ignore.
"You think you can act normal around him," Nicholas murmured, voice rough with frustration and something darker, "and I won't notice. But I do. Every second."
Ava's lips parted. "Nicholas…"
He stepped closer, pressing subtly into her space, enough that her back brushed the wall of the nearby building. The air between them thickened, charged, electric.
"You're mine," he whispered, just low enough that only she could hear it. Not a declaration for the world, but a silent promise, a claim made quietly in the midst of chaos.
Her pulse raced. She wanted to tell him she agreed, wanted to throw herself at him—but she didn't. Instead, she let the tension simmer, let the electricity crackle between them, as if the wait made it all the more unbearable.
Nicholas's fingers brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. He didn't linger. He didn't kiss her—not yet—but the movement carried all the weight of desire, all the heat of unspoken need.
Ava shivered, and for a fleeting moment, she almost forgot Liam was even nearby.
He was still a soft presence, a gentle option she could have chosen—but he could never compete with Nicholas Wolfe.
Not in the way her heart raced. Not in the way her skin burned. Not in the way she felt claimed with just a look, a movement, a whispered word.
Nicholas stepped back slightly, eyes still locked on hers. "Later," he said quietly, voice thick with restraint. "Later, I'll show you… everything."
Ava's chest tightened, the ache of waiting a mixture of longing and fear. But she didn't move. She didn't run. She couldn't.
Because Nicholas Wolfe wasn't just near her.
He was inside her head. Inside her heart.
And she knew, without a doubt, that she would follow him anywhere—even if it destroyed her.