The afternoon sun slanted through the campus windows, warm but not enough to calm the heat in my skin. My thoughts churned between two men who had irrevocably claimed pieces of me. Adrian, with his controlled dominance, the anchor of my surrender, and Cassian, smooth, teasing, magnetic, testing the edges of my restraint. The contrast was dizzying, and I felt as if I were walking a tightrope stretched over some abyss I didn’t want to see.

I had barely stepped into my seminar room when Cassian’s presence hit me like a pulse. He leaned against the front desk, one hand in his pocket, the other absently adjusting his sleeve, gaze sliding over the students before finding me. That look—slow, deliberate, like he knew exactly what he was doing—made my knees weaken. He had no idea how much I reacted to him.

“Miss Hale,” he said, his voice smooth, teasing. “You seem… distracted today. Or is that just me?”

I swallowed hard, trying to maintain composure. “Just… processing the lecture,” I murmured. My chest throbbed, heat blooming between my thighs. His eyes lingered on mine, heavy, deliberate, and I shivered despite myself.

He smirked, clearly aware of the effect he had. “I see. Always aware, always calculating. I like that. It keeps things… interesting.”

I tried to focus on my notes, forcing my hands to steady on the desk. Focus, Sophie. You’re here for class. Not… him. But the awareness of his gaze, the subtle weight of his presence, made concentration a fragile thing.

Halfway through the seminar, my phone buzzed. A single message from Adrian: “I see him. Watch yourself.”

Heat flared in my stomach—not fear, but possessive jealousy. Adrian’s calm, deliberate awareness, his silent claim over me, contrasted sharply with Cassian’s teasing provocations. My pulse sped, and I could feel the wetness pooling low, a dangerous mix of anticipation and shame. Adrian knew. And the knowledge that he knew, that he was watching—even from afar—was intoxicating.

Cassian’s voice cut through my thoughts as he posed a question to the class. “How does one negotiate the tension between desire and restraint?” His eyes flicked toward me for a fraction longer than necessary, and I realized with a shock that he was deliberately testing me, pushing boundaries I didn’t expect to feel.

After class, as students filed out, Cassian caught up with me. “Walk with me,” he said smoothly. His hand brushed mine as we passed through the hallway, accidental—or not. My body shivered at the contact, and I bit my lip to stop a soft gasp.

“You’re on edge,” he murmured, voice low, dangerous. “And I know why. That man who holds you… you can’t resist his memory, can you?”

I froze, cheeks flaming. “You don’t—” I swallowed, trying to reclaim control. “You don’t know that.”

He smiled, devilishly certain. “I can see it. Every reaction, every twitch. It’s… exhilarating.”

My fingers clenched the strap of my bag. “You shouldn’t be—”

“You shouldn’t be… what?” He leaned closer, scent brushing me, lips dangerously close to my ear. “Feeling? Responding? Wanting?”

I shivered violently, my breath shallow. “Stop teasing me.”

“I don’t tease,” he whispered. “I provoke. I challenge. I watch.”

The flush of desire—unbidden, unwelcome, thrilling—spread through me. My body wanted to respond, but my mind screamed restraint. Anchor… Anchor… I shook my head. That word didn’t apply here. Not with him. Not yet.

Before I could answer, my phone buzzed again. Adrian. A single message, short and deliberate: “Cassian. I know. Tonight.”

A shiver ran through me. His awareness, his silent claim, sent a pulse of need through me, sharper than anything Cassian’s teasing could provoke. Adrian knew, and the jealousy wasn’t just his—it was mine too. I wanted both of them, yet I knew the rules. Adrian had trained me, conditioned me to surrender, but Cassian had awakened something I couldn’t contain.

Later, back at the apartment, Cleo waited for me, arms crossed. “You’re pale. Hands trembling. Spill.”

I sank onto the couch, wrapping my arms around myself. “Cassian… he’s… testing me. Provoking me. I can’t… he’s…”

By nightfall, I had made a decision. I needed clarity, focus, and perhaps a little recklessness. I messaged Cassian: “Meet me. Apartment. 10 PM. Alone.”

The kiss, when it came, was tentative at first, testing, tasting. My body responded before my mind could protest, heat pooling, breath hitching. His hands skimmed over my sides, not forceful, but possessive enough to make me tremble. I was acutely aware that this was not Adrian. There was no safe word here, no explicit permission, only my own control, and yet I wanted to melt, to lose myself in him, if only for a fleeting moment.

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