Page 131 of They Are Mine

He’s built more like Noah than Orion.

Which makes sense. Because let’s face it, a body like Orion’s is made in the gym. You don’t just happen to be born a beast.

Everything is going perfect.

And then? Suddenly, it’s not.

Orion isn’t waiting for me in the hall after class.

That’s wrong. That’s not how this works.

A coil of unease tightens in my stomach as I move toward the parking lot.

And then I see her.

That fucking lunatic.

Tammy.

She’s shouting at my Orion. Making a fucking spectacle.

Orion doesn’t like that. I can hear it in the low, rumbling growl of his voice. See it in the way his fists clench at his sides.

He’s pissed.

Good.

I move closer, assessing.

And then she touches him. Puts her hand on his arm.

Like she still has a fucking claim.

Like she hasn’t already been replaced.

Like she didn’t lose him the moment I decided he was mine.

And I can’t fucking think.

My vision tunnels.

Blood pounds in my ears.

I lunge. Snatch her wrist, bend her fingers back until she lets out a shrill, pathetic yelp.

“You’ll want to get your nasty hands off him,” I say. My voice is calm. Sweet.

But my grip?

I push it just to the edge of breaking. Right there. Let her feel it.

Tammy fucking wails. Drops to the ground like I clocked her.

Overdramatic whore.

She looks hideous like this, crumpled on the pavement, tears streaking through her cheap-ass mascara. Like a tragic little raccoon.

“Is this her?” she gasps, sniveling, pitiful.

---