Campus felt entirely wrong without him there.

Claire realized that sobering truth at exactly 9:17 AM, while staring blankly at a diagram of a human brain stem, pretending to take notes during her Behavioral Neuroscience seminar.

At the front of the lecture hall, Professor Levin droned on, explaining stress-adaptation models and cortisol regulation mechanisms, while rows of students typed lazily on their laptops beneath the warm fluorescent lighting. The rich, familiar scent of roasted coffee drifted through the tiered room.

Outside, a steady autumn rain tapped softly against the tall, arched windows that overlooked the historic quad.

Everything looked perfectly normal. Which was exactly the problem.

Because Claire kept looking up anyway. Her eyes drifted automatically toward the hallway window. Toward the heavy oak entrance of the lecture hall. Toward the misty street running along the perimeter of the campus.

Searching.

Her stomach tightened with an immediate wave of self-directed frustration when she caught herself doing it for the third time in twenty minutes.

God. This was bad. 

Killian hadn't appeared all morning.

And somehow, his total absence felt infinitely louder than his presence usually did.

Claire pressed the tip of her pen into her notebook until the paper punctured.

Ridiculous. She was not becoming psychologically dependent on a morally concerning billionaire with predatory eye contact and advanced supernatural stalking instincts.

Absolutely not.

Yet when the class finally dismissed, her eyes still drifted automatically toward the massive iron campus gates the second she stepped into the courtyard.

Empty. A strange, restless tension coiled tightly beneath her ribs.

---

"You're distracted today."

Claire snapped her head up sharply from her untouched turkey sandwich.

Adrian Keller sat directly across from her beneath the soft amber lighting of the faculty café. His sleeves were rolled neatly to his forearms, exposing pale skin, while the heavy rain outside blurred the glass behind him into silver watercolor streaks.

"You say that every single time I happen to think quietly for more than six consecutive seconds," she countered, her voice tight.

"Because every single time you do," Adrian replied calmly, lifting his porcelain cup, "your eyes immediately track toward the entrance."

Claire instantly forced her gaze away from the café doors, staring down at her napkin. Which, unfortunately, proved his thesis entirely.

The corners of Adrian's mouth curved into a faint, knowing smile.

Interesting. The physical manifestation of the Alpha's bond was becoming visible now. It wasn't emotionally obvious to her conscious mind yet, but it was physically undeniable. The body always surrenders to the predator first.

"You actually look calmer lately, Claire," Adrian noted softly, his silver-gray eyes studying her micro-expressions.

Claire frowned slightly, adjusting her tote bag. "I'm exhausted lately."

"Mm." Adrian stirred his tea with agonizing slowness. "In trauma psychology, sudden exhaustion usually indicates that someone dangerous has successfully convinced your nervous system it is finally safe enough to rest."

The words landed with surgical accuracy, striking a hidden nerve.

Claire immediately bristled, her walls slamming down. "That is absolutely not what is happening here."

"No?"

"No."

Adrian simply waited, his silence pulling at her defenses. Claire opened her mouth to deliver a sharp, intellectual rebuttal—then stopped.

Because the horrifying part was that she knew exactly what he meant. Her insomnia had drastically improved over the last three days.

The dense, chaotic crowds of the city felt significantly less suffocating whenever Killian was walking half a step behind her. Her muscles relaxed faster around him than around anyone else she had ever known.

The realization unsettled her so profoundly that she pushed her lunch tray away entirely. "I thoroughly hate it when you psychoanalyze me, Adrian."

"You fascinate me psychologically, Claire."

"That's worse."

Adrian let out a soft, elegant laugh into his tea.

Across the crowded café, a group of students laughed loudly near the espresso counter. 

Still no black SUV.

---

The hooded man reappeared at exactly 4:42 PM.

Claire noticed him near the southern edge of the campus while she was leaving the university library, her bulky headphones resting around her neck and a heavy stack of research articles pressed tightly against her chest.

At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Dozens of students were crossing the quad beneath a sea of black umbrellas while the evening rain darkened the concrete sidewalks into a silver-black sheen.

Then, Claire happened to glance toward the administration building, and her entire body froze.

The same man from the previous nights was standing near the wrought-iron fence across the street. He wore the same dark hoodie, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his head slightly lowered beneath the brim.

Watching her.

An icy, terrifying sensation slid slowly down the length of Claire's spine. Something felt violently wrong with the image. It wasn't just because he was standing completely still; it was because he was too still. There was no shifting of his weight from one foot to the other. There was no distracted human movement. He wasn't looking at a phone.

Just… unblinking, absolute attention.

Claire's pulse slowed to a heavy, painful thud. The man lifted his head slightly beneath the hood. And for one terrible, suffocating second, Claire felt the exact same instinctive dread she experienced around Killian sometimes.

Then, a large tour group of prospective students crossed the pathway between them. The moment the crowd cleared and Claire looked again—the man was gone. He hadn't walked away down the sidewalk. He was just gone. Like he had vanished directly into the rain and shadow.

Claire stopped breathing for half a second, the air turning to ice in her lungs. That wasn't humanly possible. Her fingers tightened around her library papers, crushing the edges while a sickening panic stirred low in her stomach.

Think. Campus security line. The police station. Naomi—

Instead, her hand reached automatically into her pocket, her fingers pulling up her phone on pure muscle memory.

KILLIAN

I'm starting to expect him to save me. The thought held her breath.

Then, a familiar, low-frequency engine roar rolled softly through the sound of the falling rain.

Claire snapped her head up. A massive black SUV was pulling up to the campus gate, its sleek hazard lights pulsing. Relief hit her instantly—violently—like her entire nervous system had taken a collective, shuddering exhale all at once.

Standing beside the open rear door was Killian.

He wore his long dark coat and black leather gloves, his broad shoulders completely motionless beneath the downpour. His amber eyes found her instantly across the asphalt. It wasn't a romantic look. It was a scanning, assessing, predatory gaze.

She crossed the street quickly toward him, her pulse still uneven. Killian's gaze swept once over her face, mapping her pale cheeks, before shifting immediately toward the dark campus grounds behind her shoulder.

"Somebody was watching you."

It wasn't a question. He didn't ask what happened? or are you okay? He simply stated it. He already knew.

Claire stared up at him, her heart hammering. "How did you—?"

"Your breathing frequency changed the moment you stepped off the curb," he answered instantly, his voice a low, gravelly rasp. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

His eyes continued to track the surrounding movement of the street automatically.

Always alert. Always hunting for a threat.

Claire lowered her voice unconsciously, stepping closer to his warmth. "There was a man standing near the iron fence by the library."

Killian went completely, utterly still. A dangerous, lethal stillness. "What did he smell like, Claire?"

Claire blinked, utterly bewildered. "What?"

His eyes snapped back down to hers immediately, too intense, a flashing gold. He caught himself, his jaw clenching as he moderated his tone. "What did you notice about him? His physical description."

Claire swallowed hard against the dryness in her throat. "He was watching me. And when a crowd passed by, he disappeared too fast. It wasn't normal. Something about his presence felt… upset."