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CHAPTER 7

RILEY

T here were a lot of things I hated about my job at the campus bookstore, but three stood out above the rest.

First, no matter how many hours I worked there or at the campus coffee shop, I was always scraping by. And with my condition, sometimes I couldn’t push myself as hard as I needed to—something my manager didn’t exactly sympathize with. I was constantly worried that one bad flare-up, one missed shift, would be enough to get me fired.

Second, Eddie—one of my coworkers—did not understand the meaning of no . He lingered too long, stood too close, and always managed to brush up against me in ways that made my skin crawl.

And third—something that shouldn’t have been a big deal—I hadn’t made a single friend.

That was by design, obviously.

I kept to myself. I didn’t make connections, I didn’t let people ask too many questions. It was safer that way. If people didn’t know me, they couldn’t pry. They couldn’t ask where I was from, what I had left behind, or why I never mentioned my family.

Not that there was much to say.

I had to get a prepaid phone once I decided to leave, too afraid that Callum would use my phone to try and find me.

The one time I called my parents when I got here, they’d immediately started in on a lecture that I was a fool for giving up Chapel Hill. That my actions obviously showed I wasn’t ready to make my own decisions. And then I’d heard Callum’s voice in the background agreeing with them that I should come home.

And that was it, I hadn’t called again.

I wasn’t sure if it was freeing to completely cut them off, or if it just made me want to cry.

Either way, I was on my own, and I was determined to make it work.

It was a lonely way to live, but loneliness was nothing new.

I was determined to survive.

Which meant I was currently standing behind the register, checking out a customer while Eddie stood beside me, leaning in too close with his usual half-assed flirting attempt.

Eddie was one of those guys.

The kind who thought he was charming, but actually just made you want to walk into traffic.

Medium height, shaggy brown hair, with the kind of douchey grin that made my entire body recoil whenever he turned it on me.

And to top it all off? No shame.

None.

Not a speck.

Because no matter how many times I rejected him, he still found ways to wiggle back into my personal space and waste my time with pickup lines that were about as effective as a wet napkin in a hurricane.

“Come on, Riley, just one drink.”

I sighed, not looking up as I rang up the last item. “Still not interested, Eddie.”

“Why not?”

I shot him a look and deadpanned, “Because I don’t want to.”

The customer grabbed their bag and hightailed it out of there, eyes wide like they had just walked in on something deeply uncomfortable.

Eddie smirked, undeterred. “Fine. No drinks. What about coffee?”

“No.”

“Lunch?”

“Eddie.”

He held his hands up in mock surrender. “All right, all right. But one of these days, you’re gonna give in.”

I let out a slow breath, pressing my fingers into my temples. I really needed a different job.

I glanced at the clock, my shift was almost over. Almost. Just a few more customers, and then I could go home and?—

It started as a low rumble.

At first, I thought it was just my imagination—some lingering headache from dealing with Eddie’s third dinner invitation of the week. But then it got louder.

And louder. Until suddenly?—

The entire bookstore went silent .

I froze, fingers hovering over the register as my latest customer turned toward the entrance with wide eyes. Eddie, standing way too close beside me, stiffened. “What the hell?” he muttered.

I turned my head slowly, and immediately blinked a few times, unsure if I was dreaming or not. Barreling through the entrance, taking up the entire entrance to the bookstore, was a horde of massive men.

Men that looked vaguely familiar thanks to the fact that I may have looked up the school’s football roster after my run-in with Jace.

The men were built like walking refrigerators, with arms the size of small tree trunks and bellies that could double as beer kegs. One guy’s stomach jiggled with every movement, his entire torso covered in chest hair that I could see because—oh yeah— they were all shirtless .

They were all singing, and not just singing—absolutely butchering Taylor Swift’s “You Belong With Me.”

It was horrendous .

It was incredible .

Everyone stopped in their tracks.

A woman in the self-help aisle clutched her chest like she’d just been shot .

The girl in front of the counter looked at me like I had personally orchestrated this disaster and demanded, “What’s going on?”

Like I was supposed to know.

The linemen, who I could only assume were linemen because I didn’t think most athletes were built like that, stood in a perfect formation, arms slung over each other’s enormous shoulders, swaying like they were drunk on a rocking boat.

And then—like the gates of hell had opened and Lucifer himself had decided to ruin my life…

The linemen parted down the middle, their giant bodies shifting like the Red Sea making way for the world’s most obnoxious golden god.

Jace. Freaking. Thatcher.

Striding into the bookstore like he owned it.

Shirtless. With my name painted boldly across his obscenely muscular chest in bright red letters. The smuggest, sexiest smirk I had ever seen stretched across his perfect, infuriating face. His ridiculous, Troy-era golden-blond hair flowed behind him like he was some kind of Grecian war hero.

I forgot how to breathe.

Because he wasn’t just shirtless. He was tan, all perfect flexing abs, walking like he was about to take over the world, and he had…props. A gold microphone—because why wouldn’t he?!

His insufferable smirk only got wider as he lifted the mic and growled out the next part of the song like he was in a sold-out arena.

“Meeeee!” he finished, as he threw the microphone over his shoulder, dropped low like he was about to start a whole strip routine, and rolled his hips.

I. Wanted. To. Die.

College coeds in the store literally screamed as they recorded him. One girl dropped her iced coffee and let out an excited sob. Rachel, my coworker, was openly fanning herself, while Eddie looked like he was about to have a stroke.

Jace didn’t take his eyes off me. He dragged his hands down his abs, flexing in a way that was obscene before popping back up and pointing directly at me.

The bookstore erupted into even more chaos, and I was a little afraid there was about to be a stampede of screaming fans.

Jace spread his arms wide and grinned at me like he had just won something. “So, Riley-girl, what do you say?”

For a long, excruciating moment, I just stared at him.

At the cocky tilt of his head. The golden glow of his skin under the fluorescent lights. The way his entire body looked like it had been sculpted by some higher power with an unnecessary attention to detail.

At my name painted across his bare chest like a brand.

Jace didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

He just watched me.

And something in his expression—something dark, knowing, certain —sent a surge of panic straight through me.

I turned on my heel and sprinted out the back of the bookstore.

My heart beat against my ribs as I shoved past shelves, darting into the dimly-lit hallway that led to the only possible escape—the elevator. Waiting with its doors open like my saving grace.

My fingers were shaking as I slammed the button, my pulse thundering in my ears. Come on , come on , come on .

The doors started to slide shut, and I exhaled, pressing my back against the wall, closing my eyes. Okay. Deep breaths. Everything was going to be all right. I’d get to the lobby, slip out the side entrance, and by the time I got to my dorm, this would all be a bad?—

A foot slipped through the gap.

A strong, muscled arm followed.

And then, before I could process what was happening, Jace was inside the elevator with me.

I froze, my entire body locking up as the doors sealed shut behind him, trapping us together in the tiny, too-small, airless metal box.

He didn’t say a word. He just leaned against the opposite wall, shirtless and grinning, his golden-blond hair still unnaturally perfect and flowy like I’d stepped into a shampoo commercial. His abs flexed with every easy, slow breath he took.

Ugh. How was it possible I was already taking in hits of his scent, like I was in one of my omegaverse books or something?

The elevator lurched.

I grabbed onto the railing, my stomach flipping as it gave another violent shudder—then stopped.

The lights flickered, and my heart shot straight into my throat.

No . No . No . This was not happening . Why the fuck hadn’t I used the stairs ?

I turned, uselessly slamming my fingers against the buttons. “Lobby. Lobby. Lobby .”

Nothing.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

A soft chuckle came from behind me, and I whipped around.

Jace was still leaning casually against the wall, a slow, lazy smirk tugging at his lips that made me want to kick him.

He lifted one shoulder in an infuriating half-shrug. “Looks like fate wants us to spend a little more time together, babycakes.”

I pressed my back against the opposite wall, very aware of how small the elevator was. How there was nowhere to go.

“This isn’t fate,” I muttered, willing my voice to sound steadier than I felt. “This is an old building with shitty maintenance.”

Jace shrugged. “You can believe that if it makes you feel better. It doesn’t make it true.”

My breath came faster as I pressed the emergency call button. Static crackled, followed by a distorted voice.

“Campus maintenance.”

“Hi,” I said, exhaling in relief. “The elevator in the bookstore is stuck. There’s two of us inside.”

“We’re aware of the issue. Techs are on their way.”

“How long?” I asked, already dreading the answer.

“Could be twenty minutes. Could be an hour.”

An hour?

The line cut off before I could demand a more specific timeframe. I turned back to Jace, who looked entirely too pleased about this development.

He was too big for this elevator. His presence filled every inch of it, swallowing up the air, making it impossible to not look at him. To not notice the sweat glistening on his skin. The ridges of his abs. How my name was painted on those abs. And the way his gray sweatpants sat way too low on his hips.

“An hour, huh?” His smirk deepened as he pushed off the wall.

I swallowed hard. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Think about what?” His tone was all mock innocence. “All I’m doing is standing here. With you. In a tiny, enclosed space. Where no one can interrupt us.”

Jace tilted his head slightly, studying me like I was something to unravel. “Why do you keep running from me?”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

He moved toward me, his movements slow, predatory. His long legs ate up the space between us, and I could do nothing but stand there, frozen, as he stopped just inches away.

“Every time I get close, you bolt,” he murmured, his voice like smoke and silk. “Why is that?”

Because you’re dangerous .

Because you make me feel things I don’t want to feel .

Because the last time a man gave me this kind of attention , it nearly destroyed me .

I lifted my chin, trying to act unaffected. “Maybe I don’t like you.”

His grin deepened, feral and knowing. “Riley-girl, we both know that’s not true.”

I scowled, heat licking at my skin. “It could be.”

His hand lifted, and I sucked in a breath as he traced the curve of my jaw with the back of his knuckles, his touch featherlight but devastating. My pulse pounded so hard I felt dizzy.

His voice dipped lower, rough with amusement. “And yet, you can’t stop looking at me.”

I tore my gaze away, jaw clenching. “You’re literally half-naked in a confined space, Jace. It’s called human instinct.”

He hummed, pretending to consider. “Mmm. I think it’s something else.”

The air between us felt thick, charged. My skin tingled, my body betraying me in every possible way. I was hot, flushed, completely wound up—and he knew it.

His fingers traveled down my throat, skimming my collarbone, before they traced the delicate strap of my dress. His touch left goosebumps in its wake.

“You can’t stop looking at me,” he murmured, his lips inches from mine. “And I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Something snapped.

Before I could stop myself, my hands were on his bare shoulders, and then I was kissing him.

Hard.

Jace didn’t hesitate.

He groaned against my lips, his hands gripping my waist, pulling me against him like he wanted to fuse us together. My fingers dug into his skin, and I felt every inch of him—his strength, his heat, the raw, electric energy humming between us.

His lips moved against mine with deliberate hunger, his tongue sweeping inside my mouth, stealing my breath. He kissed me like he wanted to own me, wreck me, ruin me for anyone else.

And I let him.

Because God help me, I wanted to be ruined.

One of his hands slid into my hair, tilting my head back so he could kiss me deeper. His other hand dragged down my spine, past my waist, gripping the back of my thigh. With one swift movement, he lifted me, pressing me against the cool elevator wall.

I gasped into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound, his grip tightening, his body pressed flush against mine. I could feel him—hot, hard, and completely unashamed.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his breath ragged. “You feel so fucking good.”

His mouth moved down my jaw, my neck, licking and teasing, his teeth grazing my skin. I gasped as his lips found the hollow of my throat and he sucked gently. A sound left me that was utterly humiliating, and he smirked against my skin.

His fingers gripped my hips, grinding me against him, and I let out a desperate, breathy moan, my head falling back against the wall.

“Jace—”

“I know, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I know.”

I shuddered. “Jace…”

He lifted his head, eyes blazing, his pupils blown wide.

“I got you,” he promised, his voice softer now, filled with something real. “Let me take care of you.”

And then, he dropped to his knees.

His big hands ran down my legs before gripping my thighs, spreading them as he stared up at me with a smirk that was pure sin.

“You’re gonna wish this elevator never gets fixed,” he growled as he shoved the skirt of my dress up with zero hesitation. The fabric bunched around my hips, exposing me, and my heart slammed against my ribs, panic and heat twisting into a knot I couldn’t unravel.

“Relax, Riley-girl,” he murmured, his voice low, a gravelly edge that sent a shiver racing down my spine. His fingers hooked into my panties, tugging them aside, and before I could protest—before I could even think—his mouth was on me, hot and relentless. I gasped, head tipping back, as his tongue slid through my folds, and then flicked against me, bold and precise. My knees buckled, only the wall keeping me upright.

“Jace—no,” I choked out, not meaning it at all. My hands shot to his head, fingers tangling in his hair, tugging hard, not to pull him away, but to hold on, because holy shit, he was good. Incredible, in fact. His lips closed around my clit, sucking lightly, and a moan ripped out of me, raw and unbidden, echoing in the tight space. He groaned against me, the vibration sinking into my core, and I felt my resolve crumbling, piece by jagged piece.

He pulled back just enough to look up at me with glistening lips, his eyes dark with hunger. “You don’t want me to stop,” he said roughly, a challenge laced through his voice. “You’ve been running from this, from me, and I’m done with it.”

He licked into me again. “Time’s up, Riley-girl.”

I glared down at him, my chest heaving, my thighs trembling under his grip. “This doesn’t mean anything,” I spat, but it lacked bite, and he knew it. His smirk widened, and then he was back on me, tongue diving in, circling my clit with a rhythm that made my vision blur. My hips jerked, chasing the heat, and I cursed under my breath, hating how much I wanted this, wanted him, no matter how much I fought it.

He gripped my ass, spreading my cheeks apart as he pulled me closer. I couldn’t stop the sounds spilling out—gasps, moans, little whimpers I’d never admit to later. He ate me out like he was starving, relentless and messy, his stubble scraping my inner thighs, adding a sting that only sharpened the pleasure. My fingers tightened in his hair, pulling harder, and he growled, the sound vibrating through me, pushing me closer to the edge.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I panted, my head slamming back against the wall, the cold metal a stark contrast to the fire building low in my belly. I was so close, and he seemed to sense it. He doubled down, sucking hard, and I shattered, my orgasm crashing through me like a wave, intense and overwhelming. My knees gave out, but he held me up, pinning me against the wall as I rode it out, trembling, gasping, his name a broken chant on my lips.

He didn’t stop, not really. He just eased off enough to let me breathe, his tongue tracing slow, lazy circles over my clit as I came down, oversensitive and shaking. I shoved at his head, weak and half-hearted, my voice a wreck. “Enough, Jace?—”

He pulled back, licking his lips like he couldn’t get enough of the taste, and then stood, towering over me again. His hands braced on either side of my head, caging me in, and I couldn’t look away from those eyes—dark, wild, burning with a need that matched the pulse still throbbing between my legs. “Not even close to enough. I want to eat your sweet cunt until my dying breath,” he said in a low voice, a promise wrapped in a threat. “You’re not getting off that easy.”

I swallowed hard, my chest tight, the air between us humming with tension. “The elevator could start working at any time,” I snapped, trying to claw back some control, but it sounded weak, and he just grinned, slow and dangerous.

“But it’s not working yet, my Riley-girl,” he said, leaning in, his breath hot against my ear. “Which means you still can’t run…”

Before I could argue, his mouth was on mine, hard and demanding, tasting of me and him and some kind of magic I couldn’t name. My hands fisted the waistband of his sweats, pulling him closer even as I cursed myself for it, and he groaned into the kiss, pressing his body against mine. I felt him—hard, insistent—through his sweatpants, grinding into me, and a fresh wave of heat surged low, reigniting the ache he’d just sated.

He broke the kiss, panting, his forehead pressed to mine. “Tell me you don’t want this,” he growled, daring me to lie. “Tell me, and I’ll stop.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out—because I couldn’t. I wanted him. Since the second I saw him walking toward me in the bar, since the second any words had come out of his mouth.

I didn’t want to want him.

I didn’t want to feel the heat curling in my stomach, the sharp pull in my chest every time he looked at me like I was something he’d already won.

I didn’t want to notice the way his presence filled a space, the way his voice wrapped around my name like a claim, the way his touch lingered long after he was gone.

But I did.

And I hated myself for it.

Because wanting him meant stepping into something I couldn’t control. Something reckless. Something dangerous.

And I was so tired of danger.

But standing here, trapped with him, his scent in my lungs, his voice sinking into my skin, his body so close I could feel the heat radiating from it?—

I was terrified.

Because it was too late.

Because maybe, despite everything…

I already belonged to him.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, and then his hands were on me again, yanking my dress all the way up, pushing my bra down. My breasts spilled free, and he groaned, low and guttural, his mouth dropping to my nipple, sucking hard. I arched into him, a cry tearing out, my hands scrambling for purchase, one gripping his shoulder, the other slamming against the wall.

“Jace—” I gasped, but he didn’t let up, his tongue flicking over me, teeth grazing just enough to sting. His other hand slid down, tugging my panties all the way off, leaving me bare. I should’ve felt exposed, vulnerable, but all I felt was heat—his heat, my heat…the suffocating pull of him.

He straightened, eyes locked on mine, and pushed down his sweatpants with one hand, shoving them down just enough to free himself. My breath caught. He was thick, straining, and the sight of his huge dick had my core gushing even more. He stepped closer, pinning me tighter against the wall, one hand gripping my thigh, hitching it over his hip.

“Hold on,” he said roughly, a command I couldn’t ignore. My arms looped around his neck, fingers digging into his shoulders, and then he was pushing into me, slow at first, stretching me, filling me until I couldn’t breathe. I moaned, loud and unfiltered, the sound bouncing off the walls, and he smirked, thrusting deeper, harder, setting a rhythm that had me gasping.

“Fuck, Riley-girl,” he growled as he licked down my neck, biting down as he moved, each stroke a claim, a punishment, a plea. “You feel so good—so fucking mine .”

I couldn’t argue, I couldn’t think…I could only feel him. Feel the relentless drive of his hips, the way he hit every spot that made me unravel.

I bit down on his chest, and he hissed, the bite of pain seeming to spur him on faster. The elevator creaked, a faint groan of metal, but neither of us cared—too lost, too tangled in the heat and the need.

“I’m so close,” I panted, my head tipping back, his mouth finding my throat again, sucking a mark that would linger for days. I was close again, the pressure building fast, and he knew it—he could feel it in the way I tightened around him, the way my breaths hitched.

“Come for me,” he snarled, his hand slipping between us, fingers finding my clit, rubbing hard. I shattered, my orgasm ripping through me, sharp and blinding, my cry echoing in the tight space. He didn’t stop, he kept thrusting, dragging it out, pushing me through the waves until I was trembling, clinging to him as he pressed against my body.

Jace’s rhythm faltered, his hips jerking, and then he groaned, low and guttural, spilling hot cum inside me that dripped down my thighs. His weight pinned me to the wall, both of us panting, sweat-slick and wrecked, the air thick with the scent of us. For a moment, neither of us moved.

We just breathed.

His forehead pressed to mine, his hands still gripping my thighs.

“Why don’t I mow the lawn naked?” he suddenly asked, and I blinked at him, gasping when he slid a few inches out of me.

“The grass isn’t the only thing that would get a trim.”

It took me a second, and then the unsexiest snort known to man came out of my mouth, and his answering smile was so blinding that I lost my breath for a second.

“Still think you can run, Riley-girl?” he murmured, his forehead against mine.

I glared at him, my chest heaving, my body still humming from everything we’d just done. “I should,” I muttered, but it lacked the necessary emphasis that such a statement required to be taken seriously.

“Yeah,” he said, grinning as he brushed a damp strand of hair off my face. “But you’re stuck with me now.”

The elevator suddenly jolted violently, the lights flickering back to life, yanking me from the haze of heat and reckless desire. My heart slammed against my ribs as reality came crashing in like a tidal wave.

Jace pulled all the way out of me, adjusting his monster of a dick back into his sweatpants with the lazy confidence of a man completely unbothered—his bare chest still heaving, my name smeared across his skin. A maddeningly smug smirk stretching across his face.

Meanwhile, I was scrambling, fixing my bra, tugging my dress down…freaking out about the fact that paint was now smeared all over me. I straightened everything with frantic hands, my breath coming too fast, my entire body still thrumming from the way he had just wrecked me.

I reached down to grab my panties, but…Jace was faster. His fingers closed around the fabric before I could even process what was happening, and instead of handing them back like a sane person, he lifted them, twirling them around one finger with a knowing look.

“Jace,” I hissed, reaching for them, but he smoothly tucked them into the pocket of his sweatpants, patting it like he had just stored away some kind of prize.

My stomach flipped. “Give them back.”

He winked. “Finders keepers, babycakes.”

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open.

I made a move to dart out, to put as much space between me and the disaster that had just occurred in this elevator, but Jace was once again quicker. His hand wrapped around mine, strong and sure…and perfect. And before I could even think about bolting, he tugged me forward, stepping into the hallway like he hadn’t just fucked me silly.

“I—” I started, my voice still breathless, still shaky.

He turned his head slightly, his lips brushing against my ear as he murmured, “Relax, baby. You’re walking out of here looking thoroughly fucked and glowing and hot. You’re welcome .”

Heat flooded my face. I nearly stumbled over my own feet. “Jace!”

He just grinned, gripping my hand tighter. “Come on, Riley-girl. Let’s get you home.”

And then he was leading me down the hallway, like he hadn’t just stolen my underwear, my self-control, and possibly…the last shred of my resistance.

Because that was the hottest thing I’d ever experienced in my life.

Jace led me through the hallway, his grip firm, and every step felt surreal, the haze of what had just happened in the elevator wrapping around me like a dream I hadn’t fully woken from. The air between us crackled, a residual charge left behind from the way he had touched me, the way he had looked at me like I was the only thing that had ever mattered.

I was lost in my head as we walked outside and down the sidewalk, jumping however long later when he stopped, and I realized we were standing outside my dorm—a dorm name I hadn’t given him as a matter of fact. But why was that not surprising to me anymore?

He’d figured out my name, got my credit card, transferred to my class, and found out where I worked. And every time I was in an enclosed space with him, I practically jumped him. My cheeks heated.

Jace turned to face me, his fingers still loosely wrapped around mine. His other hand came up, knuckles grazing along my jaw, tilting my face up until I was staring into those warm, knowing brown eyes.

“You can run, you know,” he murmured in a teasing voice. “You can pretend all you want. But the thing about fate is, it doesn’t take no for an answer.” His smirk softened, just a little, replaced by something quieter, something deeper. “You feel it, too, don’t you?” It was a question he’d asked me before, but now there was an edge of vulnerability in his voice, like I had the power to break his heart with my answer.

My breath hitched, but I couldn’t answer. I didn’t trust my voice, I didn’t trust the way my body was still shaking from him, from everything. I hated how much I wanted to believe him, how much I wanted to lose myself in the comfort of his words.

And then…he ruined it.

“Be a good girl for me, darlin’,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against my lower lip as he leaned down for a kiss.

The ground beneath me vanished.

I was in a cold bedroom . Silk sheets against my skin. Callum’s voice , low and amused as he dragged a finger down my arm .

“ Be a good girl for me, darling,” he whispered , his lips barely brushing my ear as his fingers traced the bruises on my wrists . “ You don’t want me to be disappointed in you , do you ?”

I shook my head , my throat too tight , my heart too frantic . Because disappointment led to worse things . Disappointment meant I had failed him . And failing him meant I didn’t deserve to be seen , didn’t deserve to be touched .

Didn’t deserve anything at all .

I yanked my hand away from Jace’s like I had been burned, my breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. My vision blurred, my body locked in place, frozen in a past I couldn’t outrun.

Jace frowned, the playful ease on his face disappearing in an instant. “Riley?” His voice was different now—concerned, cautious. He reached for me again, but I flinched.

His jaw clenched. “What just happened?”

I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak, willing the trembling in my limbs to stop. I wasn’t there. I wasn’t back there.

But in that moment, it didn’t feel like Jace was standing in front of me.

It felt like Callum had never let me go.

My throat was tight, air refusing to come in full breaths, like I was being squeezed by invisible hands.

I had to get out of here.

“I—I can’t,” I whispered, my voice breaking over the words.

Jace stilled, his whole body locked in place, his grip hovering like he wasn’t sure if he should reach for me again. His jaw clenched, that sharp, unreadable stare flickering between my face and my shaking hands.

I turned before I could see his expression fall, before I could second-guess myself. My legs felt weak as I ran inside the building, the door clicking shut behind me. I didn’t stop until I was inside my thankfully empty dorm room, and I could sag against the door, pressing a hand over my mouth to silence the jagged breath that tore from my throat.

I shouldn’t have let it get this far. Because Jace wasn’t Callum.

But that didn’t stop the past from sinking its claws into me, dragging me back into the dark.