Abigail did not move when she heard his footsteps, not at first. She stayed hunched where she was, pressed against the cold bark, exactly as she had been seconds ago, her breathing still unsteady from the emotional crash that had gutted her a few seconds ago. Her pulse throbbed in her ears, hot and uncomfortable, and each breath came with that shaky resistance she hated so intensely. She had barely steadied herselfnwhen Adam's scent drifted close enough to pierce right through her.
Cedar. Warmth. Something new beneath it. Stronger. Sharper.
She tensed.
Of all people. Of all moments. Of all the stupid, infuriating, perfectly predictable times for him to show up.
"Abigail."
His voice came from just behind her, a soft echo in the quiet riverside, and it made the back of her neck prickle. She hated how fast she reacted to the sound of him. She wished her body would ignore him like her mind insisted it should.
She did not turn. "Leave me alone."
Adam exhaled slowly. She heard the faint scuff of his shoe on the grass, a small shift in weight, something controlled that still carried tension under it. "I'm not leaving. Not while you are like this."
Her jaw tightened. She could feel heat creeping into her cheeks again, not from tears but from irritation, from embarrassment, from the simple fact that he could see her like this. Her fingers curled around the grass beneath her as if she could pull herself into the ground, into the cold dirt she'd prefer more than this.
"I said no," she muttered.
Adam stepped closer, his shadow stretching beside hers. "It's the only way we are going to get through this. You know that."
"I don't care." Her voice cracked. She cursed under her breath. "Just go."
"No."
That single word held a weight it never used to. Not from him. Adam had always been gentle, almost timid sometimes, careful with everything he said and did. But this version of him stood his ground, not out of anger but out of something steadier. Something instinctive. She could feel it in the air between them, a subtle pressure that brushed against her skin like the static before a storm.
Her heart hammered harder.
She needed to get away.
Abigail pushed herself up quickly, determined to walk past him without another word. She barely brushed against his arm before he reached out and caught her wrist.
His hand wrapped around her with surprising steadiness. Not tight, not painful, but unyielding.
"Let go," she snapped, eyes narrowing as she twisted her arm slightly. She could feel the heat where his skin touched hers, almost burning, like the warmth was seeping into her veins.
"Not until you talk to me," Adam said quietly.
She turned on him fully then, ready to threaten him, ready to bare her teeth if she had to. Her eyes flashed amber and her fangs pressed lightly against her lower lip. She expected him to flinch. Any normal person would have.
Adam did not.
He held her gaze with calm, steady eyes that did not waver even once. His own breath was controlled, though she could hear faint tension beneath it, something that felt almost like a growl pushing behind his ribs. His wolf was closer than usual. She could feel it.
"Adam," she repeated, voice lower this time, warning in every syllable, "let. Me. Go."
"I will," he said, "but only if you talk to me."
She hated the way he said it. Not confrontational. Not pleading. Just firm. Certain. Like he was done stepping back for her.
Her stomach twisted.
"What's there to talk about," she muttered, trying to yank her arm free again.
"You know what," Adam replied, his voice deeper than normal. "Last week. My bedroom."
The instant he said it she froze. Heat flared in her cheeks so fast she hoped the ground would open and swallow her. Her pulse jumped painfully. She jerked her gaze away from him, staring at the ground because it felt safer than looking at the memory he was dragging up.
"Why are you acting like this," Adam continued. Confusion edged his voice, but not weakness. "Why are you angry at me for being honest with you."
Abigail said nothing. Her throat felt tight.
"Do you want me to pretend nothing happened," he asked softly. "Do you want me to pretend like we didn't fuck…" He swallowed, eyes flicking briefly over her expression. "Do you want me to pretend I didn't stop you because it was wrong."
Her breath hitched. Her hands trembled.
He was not supposed to say it out loud. He was not supposed to bring that moment into the open where she had to look at it, where she had to look at herself.
"Abigail," he said again, his hand still warm around her wrist, "would you have rather I let it happen."
Her chest went still.
"It wasn't right," Adam said. "And you knew that."
Her eyes lifted slowly, almost unwillingly. His face was close enough for her to see every little detail, the faint crease between his brow, the tension in his jaw that had not been there before this week, the heat in his eyes that made her blood feel too warm.
He looked at her like she mattered. Not by obligation. Not out of pity. But out of something real. Something steady. Something that terrified her.
"I did it because I care about you," Adam said, softer now. "Because I care about you enough to want what is best for you. Even if you'll hate me for it."
Her breath caught.
It felt like something hit her square in the chest.
Inside her mind everything exploded into chaos. Thoughts crashed into each other so violently she could barely grasp one before another tore through.
Why was she like this.
Why could she not hate him.
Why did his voice make her want to fall apart.
Why did his touch feel so warm.
Why did she want to lean into him instead of pull away.
She searched for a reason to hate him. Any reason. Even a small one. She clawed through every memory, every moment, every irritation she had with him, but every single one dissolved under the simple, infuriating truth that he had never tried to hurt her.
Not once.
When he held her arm like this, the warmth of his hand flooded her skin. Too hot. Too real. Too much. Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it. And the way he stood now, confident and steady, almost territorial, it made something inside her twist in ways she did not want to name.
She could not feel this.
She could not want this.
She could not love him.
Because if she did, she would compromise everything. Her mother. Her family legacy. The mission she had carried like a weight for days. All of it would crumble.
But when she looked up into Adam's eyes she did not see an opponent. She did not see someone she could manipulate. She saw a boy who cared. A boy who stood tall even when he was scared. A boy who would fight the world for her.
He would do anything for her.
And she…
She felt something that made her chest ache.
Adam breathed in slowly, watching her with that quiet intensity. Then, voice steady, he said the one thing that broke the last barrier she had left.
"I know you've felt like a lone wolf... People never understand you anyways, but i want to. If you'll let me."
Her eyes widened. The ground seemed to tilt under her feet. It felt like a punch, not painful but disarming, almost gentle in the way it shattered everything she was clinging to.
Her breath shivered. Her cheeks flushed violently. She glared at him, not because she hated him but because she had no idea how to deal with the mess inside her.
"If I talk to you," she muttered, giving him a sharp look meant to hide the way her heart was racing, "and I forgive and forget everything, will you leave me alone."
Adam's expression softened. He slowly loosened his grip on her wrist, fingers sliding away with a gentleness that should not have made her stomach flip.
"Yes," he said. "If that's what you want."
She held his gaze for a moment that stretched longer than it should have. She could not pull her eyes away. His presence pulled her in like gravity, warm and solid and infuriating.
Her chest felt too warm.
She caught herself staring and jerked back slightly, clearing her throat and forcing her expression flat again. "Fine. Then… I will see you next week. Monday. After class. For our study session."
Adam nodded once.
Abigail stepped back. Her thoughts swirled so hard she felt dizzy, like someone had spun her too fast and then let her go. Her face burned. Her pulse drummed in her ears. Her legs felt too light, almost shaky as she turned away from him.
Without another word she walked off, fast enough to escape but not fast enough to look panicked. The air felt sharp on her heated skin as she left him behind. Her mind was a storm she could not calm.
Not now at least.