The first thing Claire noticed about Killian Virel was that he moved too fast.

At first, she tried to convince herself she was imagining it. She blamed it on the sleep deprivation, the academic stress, or a lingering, embarrassing attraction that was doing weird things to her perception.

But once she noticed the anomaly, she couldn't unsee it.

It wasn't a dramatic or erratic sort of quickness; that was what made it so thoroughly unsettling. It manifested in tiny, effortless fractions of a second.

It was the way his large hand had shot out automatically when a reckless cyclist nearly clipped her crossing a campus intersection, catching her waist and hauling her backward before her brain had even processed the oncoming danger.

It was the way he always seemed to know someone was approaching from behind long before their footsteps became audible against the concrete. 

Claire had become hyper-aware of it now. She saw him everywhere.

Outside her favorite café. Lurking near the shadows of her lecture halls. Across the street when he thought she hadn't noticed him waiting under the damp awnings. Always watching. 

Claire blinked hard, snapping out of her trance, and quickly dragged her eyes down to her paper coffee cup.

Adrian Keller sat across from her inside the quiet warmth of the graduate lounge. His sleeves were rolled neatly to his forearms, revealing pale, unblemished skin, while the autumn rain whispered softly against the glass behind him. A psychology journal lay open on the low table beside an untouched cup of herbal tea.

He looked calm. Elegant. Safe. At least compared to the suffocating storm that was Killian Virel.

Claire rubbed the bridge of her nose, a bone-deep exhaustion weighing on her. "Sorry."

"You've been remarkably distracted lately."

Understatement of the century, she thought. She opted to take a long, slow sip of her lukewarm coffee instead of answering him.

Adrian studied her quietly over the rim of his porcelain cup. His silver-gray eyes were unnervingly sharp and observant beneath the soft lighting of the lounge.

"You know," he began lightly, his tone conversational, "statistically speaking, women with deep-seated hyper-independence issues tend to subconsciously attract highly dangerous men."

Claire nearly choked on her coffee. She set the cup down with a hard snap. "That sounded disturbingly specific."

A faint, knowing smile touched the corners of his mouth. "It was entirely meant to."

She narrowed her eyes at him, her defenses instantly rising. "Are you psychoanalyzing me right now, Adrian?"

"Occupational hazard of a teaching assistant, I'm afraid."

Claire groaned, leaning back deeper into the plush fabric of the couch, covering her face with one hand. "Please don't."

"But I'm fascinatingly correct, aren't I?"

Unfortunately for her sanity, he was.

Killian existed like a psychological stress fracture inside her nervous system now. Every single interaction with him left her thoughts spiraling into chaos. 

Adrian's gaze sharpened by a fraction, his analytical mind locking onto her micro-expressions. "There it is."

Claire frowned, dropping her hand. "What?"

"That expression right there."

"What expression?"

"The one people get when they are already profoundly emotionally attached, but are still desperately trying to call it otherwise."

A sudden, furious heat crawled instantly up Claire's neck, branding her cheeks. "I am not attached to anyone."

"Mm."

"I'm serious, Adrian."

Adrian smiled faintly into his tea, his expression resembling that of a patient adult indulging a child who was lying very badly.

Claire glared harder, crossing her arms. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"A little," he admitted smoothly.

"Rude."

"Truthful."

She snapped her head away, looking out the large windows toward the rain-slicked courtyard of Blackthorne University. Students were darting between buildings beneath umbrellas and dim yellow streetlights while a low rumble of thunder rolled over the city skyline.

A heavy quiet settled between them briefly, the tension humming. Then, Adrian spoke again, his voice dropping the playful edge.

"Be very careful with men who make you feel emotionally consumed too quickly, Claire."

Claire's fingers tightened around her paper cup until the cardboard groaned. Something about his cadence had changed completely. It was less teasing now. More serious. Darker.

"Why?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Adrian leaned back slightly against the cushions, his silver-gray gaze drifting toward the storm raging outside.

"Because powerful men rarely know how to love gently," he said softly.

The words settled like a lead weight somewhere uncomfortable beneath her ribs, sending a cold shiver through her. Before Claire could formulate a response, a sudden movement outside the graduate lounge windows caught her eye.

Killian. Of course it was him.

He was standing entirely alone across the courtyard, right beneath the pouring rain without an umbrella. His expensive black wool coat was darkened by the downpour, plastered to his broad shoulders while he spoke briefly into his phone.

Even from several stories up, through the thick glass and the sheets of water, his presence pulled focus violently, warping the air around him.

Claire's pulse reacted instantly, a chaotic fluttering in her throat.

Annoying.

Adrian followed her line of sight casually, looking through the glass toward the courtyard—and he immediately felt the entire atmosphere of the room drop twenty degrees.

Killian had looked up.

He was staring directly at the windows. Directly at the graduate lounge.

Directly at them.

Even through the heavy rain and the distance, the absolute intensity of that golden gaze landed like a physical impact against the glass.

Then, Claire made a critical mistake.

Anxious to break the suffocating tension, she forced a soft laugh at something meaningless Adrian had murmured a moment ago.

And Adrian, his eyes still locked onto Killian through the storm, reached over with calculated, deliberate carelessness and touched Claire's shoulder lightly, a gesture of faux intimacy.

The reaction from the courtyard was instantaneous.

Killian went completely, utterly still.

Every single muscle in the billionaire's large frame froze beneath his coat so suddenly that even from several stories above, Claire felt the shift in pressure. 

Adrian's eyes narrowed in silent triumph.

Ah. There it is. The raw possessiveness. Pure Alpha instinct.

Killian ended his phone call without breaking eye contact with the lounge windows for a single second. Then, he started walking toward the building.

He was moving fast.

The rain lashed violently across the black marble pathways as he cut through the courtyard, students unconsciously parting around him like water around a shark.

Claire sat upright slowly, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. Something icy and wet slid straight down her spine.

Suddenly feel like I'm about to witness a terrifying territorial dispute... she kept the thought in mind.