I barely recognize the girl staring back at me in the mirror.
Smoky eyes. Red lips. Cheekbones highlighted sharp enough to cut glass. The dress is short, tight, black fabric clinging to curves I usually hide. I look like someone who knows exactly what she wants.
I look like a liar.
Angel whistles from the doorway. "If this doesn't break him, nothing will."
I smooth the fabric over my hips. Tonight isn't about attraction. Tonight is about winning.
The university victory party is already chaos when we arrive. Pounding music, flashing lights, students and staff crammed together celebrating the hockey team's win.
I scan the room for Ashton, but he's nowhere to be seen. Strange. He's supposed to be here—he's the coach now. But for once I don't feel the familiar weight of being watched.
I throw myself into the chaos anyway. Dancing with Angel. Accepting drinks. Laughing with boys who look at me like I'm a prize. The alcohol warms my blood, and I almost forget why I'm here.
But then– My phone buzzes.
I pull it out. Nate's name glows on the screen.
I see you in that dress. Meet me outside in 5 minutes or that video goes live tonight.
The warmth drains from my body.
"Lyra?" Angel leans close, shouting over the music. "You okay?"
"I'm fine. Just need air."
"Want me to come?"
"No, stay. I'll be right back."
Angel's eyes narrow—she knows me too well—but I'm already pushing through the crowd.
The courtyard is dark and quiet. Cool air wraps around my bare shoulders as I step outside, scanning the shadows for Nate.
I don't hear him approach until his hand closes around my wrist.
"There you are."
My eyes fly open. He pulls me deeper into the shadows, away from the windows, away from witnesses. His grip is iron.
"Nate, let go of me."
But he doesn't. He pushes me against the brick wall and crushes his mouth to mine, swallowing my protest. I shove at his chest but he grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head with one hand.
"I told you we'd work on making sure you're not boring in bed." His breath is hot against my neck. "Time for your next lesson."
Panic floods my veins. His free hand tears at my dress, yanking the strap down, and I can't breathe, can't scream—
And one thought cuts through the terror: Where is Ashton?
The man I've been trying to drive away. Right now, pinned against this wall, I would give anything to see him appear from the shadows.
I would give anything not to be alone. I knew this was it, Nate would get away with what’s happening.
Then suddenly– Nate is gone.
Ripped away so violently he crashes onto the concrete with a grunt of pain. Ashton stands between us, materializing from nowhere, his face carved from stone and his voice low enough to kill.
"I warned you once. There won't be a third time." He doesn't raise his voice. He doesn't need to. "Touch her again and I'll make sure you never touch anyone else."
"Ashton—" I try to speak, but he's not looking at me. Every ounce of his attention is fixed on Nate like a predator deciding where to strike first.
"Run." One word, and Nate scrambles to his feet and disappears into the darkness.
Ashton turns to me, his eyes scanning my body for damage. "Are you hurt?"
I push past him, humiliation and alcohol and fury mixing into something volatile. He follows me around the corner of the building, into a secluded alcove where no one can see us. My back hits the brick wall and I spin to face him.
"What do you want from me?" I snap, not giving myself a chance to compose. "Why are you here? Why do you keep doing this?" My voice shakes. "Why does my father suddenly care enough to send someone? What is he so afraid of?"
His jaw tightens. "That's not for me to say."
"Of course it isn't. You're just the loyal soldier following orders."
I step closer, my pulse hammering against my throat.
"You know I've been trying to make you leave. Deliberately provoking you. Being a bitch on purpose."
His expression doesn't change. "I noticed."
"And you're still here."
"I told you." His voice drops, rough and dangerous. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Why?" I shove his chest. He doesn't move. "Why do you care so much? Why won't you just leave me alone?"
I shove him again. Nothing.
"Answer me!"
Something snaps.
His hands close around my wrists and suddenly I'm pinned against the wall, his body pressing into mine, his face inches away. I can feel the heat radiating off him, can feel his chest rising and falling hard against mine, can see the storm raging behind his eyes.
"You want to know why?" His voice is barely a growl. "You want to know why I can't leave?"
My breath catches. His grip on my wrists isn't painful, but it's firm. Unyielding. His thigh presses between mine and I feel the tension coiled in every inch of his body.
"Because that's my goddamn job." His jaw clenches. "Because I made a promise to your father and I don't break my word. Because I owe him more than you could possibly understand."
His forehead drops against mine, his breath ragged.
"And because..." He stops. Swallows hard. When he speaks again, his voice is rougher, quieter. "Because a girl like you—small, soft, too stubborn to see danger coming—is an easy target for every kind of predator out there. And I'll be damned if I let one of them touch you."
Something flickers in his eyes. Something he's trying very hard to bury.
The silence stretches between us. His breath mingles with mine. Neither of us moves.
I don't think. I just act.
I close the gap and press my lips to his.
For one electric second, he kisses me back. His hand slides into my hair, his mouth opens against mine, and I feel him give in—
Then he wrenches away.
He releases my wrists, stepping back like I've burned him. His chest heaves. His hands shake at his sides.
"We can't do this," he says, but his voice cracks on the words.
"Why not?" I close the distance he just created. "You don't want me?"
"Lyra—"
"You wouldn't follow me everywhere if you weren't attracted to me." I press my palm flat against his chest, feeling his heart pound beneath my fingers. "Or are you telling me this huge, powerful man is just a puppet in my daddy's hands? No thoughts of his own? No desires?"
His control shatters.
He grabs my face and kisses me like he's been starving for it. Deep and consuming, his hands sliding down my body, lifting me against him. I wrap my legs around his waist and he carries me to his truck in the far corner of the lot.
The backseat. His body pressing mine into the leather.
My bravado falters. I'm not the seductress I pretended to be. I've never actually done this—Nate made sure of that. My only experience is humiliation.
Ashton senses the shift. His hand cups my cheek, thumb brushing my lip.
"We don't have to do this. Tell me to stop and I'll stop."
I shake my head. "I want to. I just..."
"Then let me show you how it's supposed to feel."
He worships me slowly. Lips trailing across my collarbone. My breasts. My stomach. Giving me time to breathe, to adjust, to want more.
And I do want more.
My shyness melts into something hungrier as his mouth finds places that make me gasp. As his hands learn every curve and hollow. As my fingers dig into his shoulders and my hips rise to meet him.
"You're so beautiful," he breathes against my skin. "So fucking beautiful it drives me insane."
When he finally enters me, he pauses. Letting me feel him. Watching my face for any sign of discomfort.
But there's no discomfort. Only a fullness that makes me moan his name.
He starts slow. Deep. Deliberate. But my body responds in ways I didn't know it could, and soon I'm begging for more. Harder. Faster.
The gentleness burns away into something raw.
"This is how much I’ve wanted you," he growls against my ear, and I finally understand what desire is supposed to feel like.
When someone knows exactly how to unleash it.