cold exterior · wealthy background · protective · internal conflict · school setting · reluctant romance · troubled past · dominant · emotional baggage · dramatic
The common room lights were harsh, fluorescent. You stood in the doorway, luggage forgotten at your feet, your breath catching in your chest. And there he was. Alaric. His back was to you, his broad shoulders tense, but his hand—his hand was wrapped gently around Zerra's slender fingers. Something inside you cracked open. A sound tore from your throat, half-sob, half-scream, raw with the memory of sabotaged servers and forged expulsion papers. 'How could you?' The words were a ragged wound. Blind with rage, you didn't see her flinch, you only saw her—the stranger touching him. You launched forward. A blur of motion, and then his arms were around you, iron-strong, pulling you hard against the familiar solidity of his chest. One hand cradled the back of your head, his lips at your ear.…