Violets and Ash

Chapter 10

A feminine gasp to my left threatened to pull my attention away from him...away from my mate. Just hearing the words in my head, seeing them unravel in the way he smiled—it was all so surreal, so idyllic.

I should've listened to the girl, maybe then I would've been better prepared. The fact that I tuned into their hushed conversations seconds too late would forever weigh on my mind.

"Hael's back early?"

"Something must've happened between him and Mykelle..."

"Can you believe it?"

"Does that mean he's finally single?"

Voices both male and female overlapped one another, growing steadily with excitement while my own seemed to falter and plummet.

Cold realization took its place.

I'd already caught his scent in the lunchroom, when his friend heckled me for eating a cupcake. It reminded me of salty waves, of the earth after a long, harsh rain.

Before I could question why our bond hadn't snapped into place back in the lunchroom, the guy I had eyes on moved to the side to let my worst nightmare through.

No, this can't be happening. Not him, not here of all places.

His eyes were two shards of blackened coal, even darker than the unruly mop of tousled black hair that hung over his forehead. Every single person in the hall grew quiet, talking in hushed tones that were all too easy to pick apart. Tall, dark, and most certainly not handsome didn't seem to notice them. No, he was scanning the crowd, running his eyes over the tops of their heads as he searched for something...for someone.

Even as I clung to my disbelief, to the lie that sang itself into oblivion in my head, widening my eyes until the attraction that curled my toes faded into nothingness—I knew it was me he was searching for.

As the bottomless pits that sufficed as his eyes fell on my face, I was battered with the scent of sage and pine, laced with something spicy and purely male. There was no cologne clinging to the expensive fibers of his midnight Henley and torn jeans.

The mouthwatering scent belonged to him, and him alone.

Hael.

Upon whispering his name in the deepest depths of my thoughts, his head tilted, and eyes narrowed. The sandy haired guy beside him, whose face was morphed into a supercilious smile, was oblivious to the exchange between his friend and me.

What felt like hours lasted only seconds, and as his attention slid down the curve of my cheek to the visible scar slashed across my neck, a look of absolute murder caressed his face.

Just like that the spell was broken, shattered as I felt the rage he directed towards me.

I couldn't tell if it were the bond between us trembling or my legs, nor could I tell if the sheen on his leather jacket were from the fluorescent lights or the tears stinging the backs of my eyes.

Only when he turned away to murmur something to his sprightly friend was I able to free myself.

Everything I learned about the University vanished as I turned on my heel and stumbled over the clunky platform of the ridiculous Mary Jane's Sylvia forced onto my feet, hearing the vindictive laughter of students trickle from behind.

Five heartbeats later I found myself sitting—or rather hiding, inside of a stall within one of the many women's bathrooms. The breathing exercises Dr. Maslin taught me, which felt ridiculous at the time, were the only thing keeping me under control.

Sylvia's driver was most likely outside waiting for me, but there was no chance in hell I'd leave this stall anytime soon. These four walls were the only thing protecting me from the asshole I now had as a mate.