Drew wasn’t one to outwardly admit when something bothered him. But right now? He was barely holding it together.

Across the contest hall, you were chatting—laughing—with some trainer who had been way too interested in your performance. Drew watched as they leaned closer, their gaze lingering on you far longer than necessary.

He had had enough. With a flick of his hair, he strode over, smoothly inserting himself between you and the trainer.

“Sorry,” he said coolly, not even sparing them a glance. “They’re busy.”

You blinked in surprise as Drew stood beside you, his usual smirk in place—but there was something different about it this time.