Anya's POV
By the time the clock hit 7:50 PM, Anya had already changed her outfit twice.
She finally chose a simple black top and jeans, nothing that would draw attention… nothing that could be misinterpreted.
Why am I even thinking about what he'll think?
She shook her head.
This is just a conversation. Nothing else.
And yet, her pulse kept rushing.
The north courtyard was almost empty when she reached.
Tall street lamps cast long, sharp shadows across the pavement.
Wind rustled the trees.
The entire campus felt strangely quiet.
"Too quiet," she whispered.
A shadow moved behind her.
She spun around—
Liam stepped out of the dark like he'd been waiting all along.
He wasn't smiling.
His face looked carved from stone, his eyes burning with something intense… dangerous… unreadable.
"You came," he said.
"You told me I needed answers."
He walked closer.
Slow.
Patient.
Like approaching a frightened animal he didn't want to startle—
or a beautiful creature he didn't want to scare away.
"I told you the truth," Liam said. "People were following you."
"Who were they?"
He hesitated.
Just for a second.
"People who don't belong here. People who notice new girls with no family nearby."
A chill ran down her spine.
"And you… 'handled' them?" she asked softly.
"Yes."
"What does that mean?"
"It means," he said, stepping close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath,
"they won't ever come near you again."
Her voice trembled.
"What did you do?"
Liam didn't flinch.
He didn't lie.
"I scared them."
A pause.
"And I made sure they understood you're off-limits."
Her heart thudded.
"Liam… I never asked you to protect me."
"You didn't have to."
"You barely know me."
"I know you better than they ever could."
"That's what scares me," she whispered.
Liam's jaw clenched.
He reached out—gently—and tucked one strand of hair behind her ear.
The touch was soft… too soft for someone like him.
"You don't have to be scared of me," he said quietly.
"How can I not be? Everything about you feels—intense."
"Good."
Her breath hitched.
He leaned even closer, voice rough and low:
"Because the truth is… I'm not safe for you."
"Then why—"
"Because I'm worse without you."
The words slammed into her chest.
Before she could reply, a twig snapped sharply behind them.
Liam's expression shifted instantly—softness gone, replaced by cold violence.
"Stay behind me," he ordered.
Anya froze, but he didn't wait.
He moved like he'd been trained—alert, silent, controlled.
From the shadows near the walkway, a man stepped out.
Not a student.
Not a professor.
This man looked… wrong.
Older.
Dirty hoodie.
Hands in his pockets.
Liam's voice dropped into something terrifying.
"You shouldn't have come here."
The man smirked. "Just checking on the girl. She's new."
Anya's stomach twisted.
Liam stepped forward, blocking her completely.
"You come near her again," Liam said, low and deadly,
"and I will break your f—"
"Liam!" Anya grabbed his arm, stopping the explosion she saw coming.
The stranger laughed. "Touchy, aren't we?"
Liam's fists tightened so hard his knuckles whitened.
"You have three seconds to leave," he said.
The man backed away slowly, eyes lingering on Anya in a way that made her skin crawl.
"See you around, sweetheart," he said with a mocking wink.
Something inside Liam snapped.
He lunged—but Anya grabbed him again.
"Stop! Please—just stop!"
Liam froze at her touch.
Only at her touch.
He turned to her, breathing hard, anger rippling under his skin.
"I told you," he said softly, voice shaking with rage,
"this campus isn't safe."
She stared at him, terrified and grateful all at once.
"Come with me," he said, calmer now but still burning.
"I'm not letting you walk anywhere alone tonight."
"Liam—"
"You're not arguing."
His eyes softened—just for her.
"You're shaking."
"I'm not—"
He reached out and gently took her hand.
"You are."
And she was.
She let him lead her away.
Not because she trusted him.
Not because she wanted to.
But because danger had a face now.
And Liam was the only one who stepped between her and it.
✨ Liam's POV – "Mine to Protect, Mine to Destroy"
She held my arm.
She touched me.
That alone was enough to pull me back from killing the man on the spot.
I would've done it.
Without hesitation.
Without regret.
But she asked me to stop.
And for her, I did.
That terrified me.
I'm not the kind of man who listens.
I'm not the kind of man who obeys.
But when her hand wrapped around my arm, begging me not to go too far—
My rage shattered.
She doesn't understand what's happening around her.
What kind of people wander this campus at night.
What they would have done if I hadn't intervened the first time.
What they would do if she ever slipped away from me.
I saw the way the man looked at her.
Like she was prey.
She's not prey.
She's mine.
Even if she doesn't know it.
Even if she fears me.
Especially if she fears me.
Because fear keeps her close
—safe
—and exactly where I need her.
Tonight proved something important.
She needs protection.
And I'm the only one capable of giving it.
Anya's POV
Liam didn't let go of her hand.
Not even once.
He led her across the empty campus, his grip firm, warm, unyielding—like he was afraid she'd disappear if he loosened it.
"Where are we going?" Anya asked softly.
"My building."
"Your—what? No, Liam, I can just go to my dorm—"
"No."
His voice was calm, but too sharp.
"Not tonight. Not after what happened."
Her heart raced. "People will see—"
"I don't care."
He meant it.
Liam didn't care about rumors.
Or rules.
Or boundaries.
He cared about her.
In a way that terrified her more than the man in the hoodie.
They reached Hallstead Residence, the upperclassmen building.
Liam swiped his card and pulled her inside.
His dorm room wasn't messy like she expected.
No posters.
No clothes thrown around.
Everything was clean.
Precise.
Sharp.
Like him.
She noticed something on his desk—a small, folded piece of paper.
Her name written on the front.
Her heartbeat froze.
"What is that?" she whispered.
Liam's eyes flicked to it—too quickly.
"Don't touch it."
"That's my name. Why—why do you have a note with my name on it?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he took the paper quietly and placed it inside a drawer.
Locked it.
"Liam…"
"It's not what you think," he said, but his voice was too tight.
It was exactly what she thought.
He'd been watching her longer than she realized.
She stepped back, heart pounding.
"You're hiding things from me."
He turned away, jaw flexing.
"I'm protecting you."
"You're controlling me."
"Someone has to."
Her breath caught.
He ran a hand through his hair—frustrated, troubled, raw.
This was the first time he looked… human.
Not dangerous.
Not cold.
Just—
Broken.
"What are you not telling me?" she asked softly.
He hesitated.
For the first time…
Liam Carter hesitated.
"Those men from last night weren't random," he said finally.
"They were watching the shuttle stop the hour before you arrived. They weren't waiting for anyone else."
"Me?" she whispered. "Why?"
His fists clenched painfully.
"I don't know. Yet."
A cold dread washed over her.
"Liam… what if I'm in danger because of you?"
He went still.
Completely still.
When he turned toward her, his expression was unreadable—dark, wounded, quietly furious.
"You really think I'd ever let anything happen to you?"
"I don't know what to think," she whispered.
He exhaled shakily.
"That's the problem," he said.
"You don't see what I do for you. You only see the parts that scare you."
Anya stepped closer—just an inch.
"Then show me," she said softly.
"Show me the part that isn't scary."
Liam froze again.
Then something in him cracked.
Something deep.
Something he couldn't hide anymore.
He looked at her like she was the one person who could destroy him…
and the only one he wanted to destroy him.
"I don't do emotions, Anya," he whispered.
"I don't do softness. Or trust. Or attachment."
"But you're doing all of that with me," she replied.
His jaw tensed.
His throat worked.
His eyes burned.
"You're the exception," he said quietly.
She felt something shift between them—
something dangerous
something forbidden
something magnetic and terrifying.
But before she could speak, Liam's expression changed completely.
A shadow passed his face.
His eyes sharpened.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
He didn't answer.
He grabbed her wrist—gently but fast—and pulled her behind him, stepping toward the window.
Outside, near the courtyard light, a figure stood staring up at their building.
Staring at Liam's window.
No movement.
No hesitation.
Just watching.
Liam's voice dropped into a cold whisper.
"That's the same man from earlier."
Anya's blood turned to ice.
"Liam…"
He stepped closer to the glass, rage vibrating off him.
"He followed us," Liam said.
"He followed you."
Anya grabbed his arm.
"Don't go out there—please—"
Liam turned to her, eyes wild for the first time.
"This isn't about danger anymore."
His voice dropped into something darker.
"It's about jealousy."
"Jealousy?" she whispered, horrified.
"Yes."
He leaned closer, voice shaking with fury.
"Because he looked at you like he had the right to."
Her lips parted. "And you do?"
"I don't know," he whispered honestly.
"But I want it."
Her breath caught.
Liam looked at her like she was the last line holding him together.
"Stay here," he commanded softly.
"I'm going to make sure he never looks at you again."
"Liam—"
But he was already moving.
Already leaving.
Already letting the darkness take over.