"Are you awake, Hazel?" Sahil's voice filled the room, small and tinny through the speaker, painfully innocent.

"Yes," I said, my voice rough with sleep. "I am."

As I spoke, Advik's arm wrapped around my waist. He didn't ask permission. He didn't warn me. He just pulled me backward, rolling me between his legs until my spine pressed flush against his chest, my body nested inside the cage of his thighs. Before I could protest — before I could even draw breath — his lips found my neck.

Soft, teasing kisses at first, trailing along my pulse point, his breath hot against my skin. I stiffened, my free hand gripping the bedsheet, my eyes wide in the dark.

"Sahil," I managed, my voice too high. "What's up?"

He told me about some project we had due next week, his voice easy and normal, completely unaware that I was being devoured in the dark. I tried to listen. I tried to focus on his words, on deadlines, on academic responsibility — the boring, safe scaffolding of a life that didn't involve Advik's teeth against my throat.

"Yes," I said, squeezing my eyes shut as Advik's tongue traced the shell of my ear. "We should do it together."

My response — innocent, academic, the most boring sentence I had ever spoken — only seemed to fuel something in Advik. Something dark and ancient and furious.

His grip on my waist tightened, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of my stomach. His kisses lost their softness. He was marking me now, his teeth grazing my skin, sucking hard enough to bruise, hard enough to leave evidence that would bloom purple and blue by morning. A warning. A claim. A message written in blood vessels that Sahil would never see but Advik would know was there.

I bit my lip to stifle a gasp, my back arching involuntarily against his chest, the phone trembling in my hand.

"Great," Sahil said, oblivious. "I'll send you the notes."

"Okay," I breathed, the word catching as Advik bit down, just hard enough to make my vision blur. "Thanks."

I ended the call. Or maybe Sahil did. I didn't know. I didn't care.

The room went silent except for the sound of Advik's breathing, ragged and hot against my neck, and the thunder of my own heart, and the terrible, electric knowledge that I hadn't stopped him.

I hadn't stopped him.

And I wasn't going to.

"Then come to my place," Sahil said, his voice easy and innocent through the speaker. "We can work on it there."

Advik's finger shot out and muted the call with a vicious tap. The screen went dark. He tossed the phone aside — it hit the mattress with a soft thud — and his other hand found my chin, tilting my head back until I was looking up at him, until the only thing in my vision was his face, his eyes burning with something dangerous and possessive and utterly unhinged.

"No." His thumb pressed against my jaw, not hurting, just holding me in place. "If you want to do this project together, he comes here. Or I am not letting you go."

I tried to pull away, but his grip only tightened. "So you can cause trouble."

"I won't." His voice dropped, rough and urgent. "I promise. But I can't let you go alone."

From the phone, muffled and distant, Sahil was calling my name. "Hazel? Hazel, you there?"

I reached for the phone, but Advik's hand shot out and pinned my wrist to the mattress. His eyes never left mine.

"Yes," I called out, my voice too high, too thin. "I'm here. It's just... can you come here?"

A pause. Then — "Are you sure Advik will let me come?"

I looked at the man caging me in, at the darkness in his eyes that said he would burn the building down before he let me walk out that door. "Yes," I lied. "He will."

"Fine then." Sahil sounded uncertain, but he was trying to be brave. "I'll come in an hour."

Advik snatched the phone from my hand and threw it to the other side of the bed. His movements were sharp, possessive, the actions of a man who had reached the end of his patience and was now operating on pure instinct. Then he turned back to me, his eyes dark with intent, with hunger, with something that looked almost like fury at himself for wanting me this much.

He started at my collarbone.

His tongue was hot and deliberate against the marks he had given me just moments ago — the bruises blooming purple along my throat, the evidence of his teeth. He licked them slowly, as if sealing his claim deeper into my skin, as if he could tattoo his ownership beneath the surface where no one else could see it but everyone would know.

I stayed still.

Not moving. Not fighting. My breath came shallow and fast, my chest hitching with each exhale. I told myself to push him away. I told myself to scream, to run, to remember that this was the same man who had called me worthless twelve hours ago.

My hands didn't move.

He pulled me even closer, his body flush against mine, and I felt it — the hard, unmistakable evidence of his arousal pressing against my hip through the thin fabric of his sweatpants. My eyes widened. My pulse skyrocketed. A traitorous heat pooled low in my stomach, thick and heavy and terrifying.

He grabbed my face with both hands, tilting it up to meet his gaze, and kissed me.

Hard. Almost punishing. His teeth caught my lower lip and held for one sharp second before releasing. A reminder. A warning. A promise of what would happen if I defied him, if I stepped one foot out of line, if I let Sahil look at me for one second too long.

"You better behave today."