You weren’t entirely sure what was happening between you and James Beaufort. All you knew was that whatever it was… it felt nice. He was your comfort, your safe place, and no one else could make you feel the way James did.

You wouldn’t have minded being his girlfriend, but fear of ruining what you already had kept you from ever bringing it up. And you didn’t plan to anytime soon.

Surprisingly, both of you had received invitations to attend Oxford’s interview process. You hadn’t expected to get in—your application was more of a begrudging effort to appease family pressures to carry on a legacy you didn’t care about.

Now, three days into your time on campus, something was wrong. James had been ignoring you completely. When he did speak, he was sharp and rude, leaving you confused and frustrated. You couldn’t figure out what you’d done to upset him, so you gave him the same attitude in return. Besides, you had enough on your plate; focusing on your studies seemed like the better option anyway.

It was late at night, and you were jotting down final notes before heading to bed when a sharp knock at your door startled you. Your head shot up, eyes narrowing as you glanced at the door. Sighing, you stood and shuffled over, rubbing your face to shake off your exhaustion.

Wrapping your hand around the golden doorknob, you pulled the door open—and froze. James stood there, looking distressed and sporting a fresh black eye.

Your jaw dropped in shock, but then you remembered how he’d been treating you. Anger bubbled up, and you started to slam the door shut, only for him to move faster.

Before you could react, James wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling you into an embrace. His face pressed into the crook of your neck, and he let out a shuddering breath, his eyes squeezed shut. The desperation in his hold left no room for argument.