Housebound with the Blackridge Heirs novel Chapter 71

**Change Begins With You — Jayden Collins**
**Chapter 71**

**Maya**

The words sliced through the air with an intensity that felt like a blade, sharp and filled with an unmistakable fury that sent shivers down my spine.

Jamille remained silent, her lips pressed together in a tight line. She couldn’t respond, not when she was dangling several feet above the ground, a single hand gripping the back of her shirt like a vice.

I was frozen in place, my entire being paralyzed by the weight of the moment. I dared not turn around, not even to steal a glance at what was unfolding behind me.

Breath caught in my throat, I focused my gaze solely on Jamille’s face, watching as every hint of color drained from her features, leaving her pale and wide-eyed.

The courtyard, once bustling with chatter and laughter, fell into an eerie silence. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath, as if the world itself was bracing for what was to come.

Yet, amidst this tense atmosphere, I felt a strange absence—the familiar tug of my bond with Caden was nowhere to be found. I sensed his rage simmering just beneath the surface, felt the heat of his approach, but it wasn’t him who emerged from the crowd.

No, it was Tylon.

And he was a tempest of fury.

I caught the glances of confusion and fear that flickered across the faces of those around me, their expressions mirroring my own internal chaos as I desperately clutched the tattered remnants of my clothing, trying to shield myself from the scrutiny of the onlookers.

“Tylon—” one of Jamille’s friends called out, her voice trembling like a leaf in the wind. But Tylon’s growl silenced her, and I could see Jamille’s face turning a sickly shade of purple as she began to kick and squirm. “I mean—I mean Alpha Blackridge. Please let her go. You’ll kill her!”

“That’s precisely the plan,” Tylon snarled, and an icy fear gripped me. Jamille’s eyes widened in horror, and I felt a pang of sympathy for her, despite my dislike. I didn’t wish for Tylon to kill her; the consequences of such an act could be dire, not just for Jamille but for Tylon himself.

Elise rushed to my side, draping her blazer over my shoulders in a futile attempt to offer me some semblance of modesty. But given her smaller frame, it barely covered anything at all.

“Tylon,” I implored, my voice barely above a whisper. “Please, don’t do this.”

His gaze snapped to me, and for a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of softness in his eyes before he turned back to Jamille, dropping her unceremoniously to the ground. She gasped, coughing violently as she struggled to regain her breath.

The silence that followed was shattered by Tylon’s voice, which dripped with fury.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he growled, stepping closer to Jamille, his very presence radiating authority and anger. “Dragging a student into the courtyard. Stripping her. Touching her like that. Are you insane?”

Jamille’s voice was ragged as she coughed out her defense. “She walked in here stinking like she owned the place. Like she was better than us. I wanted to show her—”

Tylon cut her off with a glare that sent chills racing down my spine. “You do not touch her.”

“She’s not even a wolf,” Jamille spat, her voice shaking with indignation. “She doesn’t deserve—”

“Shut your mouth before I shut it for you,” Tylon snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut through the tension.

Jamille flinched, and I noticed that every intern present mirrored her reaction, a collective shiver running through the crowd.

And then, without warning, the bond within my chest tugged fiercely, as though someone were yanking on a rope tied to my very core. A heartbeat later, heavy footsteps thundered across the courtyard.

Caden.

His rage arrived like a storm before he did, a palpable force that enveloped me. When he pushed through the throng of people, his eyes were as dark as night, filled with a tempest of emotions. In two swift strides, he dropped to his knees in front of me.

Before I could even process the movement, his jacket was off and wrapped around me, pulling me close as if he feared I might shatter into a million pieces if he let go. His hands trembled as he checked me over, his concern evident in every touch.

“Who touched you?” he demanded, his voice a low growl that barely resembled the calm demeanor I was used to.

“I’m fine,” I whispered, trying to reassure him, but he wasn’t listening.

His gaze shifted, locking onto Jamille with an intensity that made my heart race. The muscle in his jaw tensed, and I could see the fury bubbling just beneath the surface as he surged forward, ready to unleash his wrath.

“Caden, please stop,” I pleaded, grabbing his arm, desperate to halt his advance.

He looked down at me, his expression as if I had asked him to stop breathing. The tension in his body was palpable, each breath coming too quickly, too harshly.

“She hurt you,” he said, his voice laced with a protective urgency.

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