Let me set the scene.

She’s sitting on the edge of the training mat. Hoodie zipped up to her chin. Legs tucked beneath her. One arm bound in gauze, the other cradling a heat pack over her ribs like it’s the last lifeline she’s got.

And Kai—fucking Kai—walks past her and has the audacity to snort.

“Rough day, huh?” he says, eyeing her bandages. “You look like roadkill with a skincare routine.”

Silence.

My fist tightens so fast I actually hear my knuckle pop.

She doesn’t respond. Doesn’t even blink. Just shifts slightly, the movement so subtle it probably tugs at a cracked rib. She winces—barely. But I catch it.

And that’s it.

That’s the moment.

My eyes lift, and I lock on Kai like a sniper scopes his final target. My boots scrape across the stone with all the gentleness of a war drum.

Kai turns at the sound—smirking like the absolute dumbass he is.

“Oh c’mon, it’s a joke,” he laughs. “She knows I didn’t mean it.”

“You will mean it,” I say slowly, darkly, stalking forward like wrath with a spine. “When you’re lying on the ground in a full-body cast, whispering ‘she’s so pretty’ through a wired jaw and a crushed ego.”

“Cole, man—”

“Shut up,” I snarl. “Your voice is giving me brain rot.”

I reach behind me, feel the ground rumble in response, like the earth itself is pissed off for me. A jagged slab of rock erupts near my heel—sharpened, serrated, angry.

Kai’s eyes widen.

“Okay—wait—”

“Let me paint you a picture, flameboy,” I hiss, stepping into his space, crowding him back against the wall like vengeance in a hoodie. “You walk past a girl with broken ribs and think, ‘Hey, what if I made her feel worse?’ You mock her for being hurt. You act like her pain is punchline material. And you do it in my presence?”

He tries to backpedal. I slam a palm against the wall beside his head. The stone trembles under my hand like even it knows what’s coming.

“She didn’t say anything,” I snap, “but I will. I’ll say it loud, and I’ll say it once—so pay attention.”

He swallows.

“You ever talk to her like that again—I will fold you like a lawn chair in a hurricane.”

“Jesus, Cole—”

“Jesus isn’t here right now,” I bite, “but I am. And if you keep running your mouth, I’ll show you exactly how the earth eats its own.”

From the mat, she lets out a soft, slightly startled breath.

I glance back—she’s watching me. Pink-cheeked. Wide-eyed. Hoodie sleeve slipping off her shoulder again.

Damn it.

I grit my teeth and step back before I start glowing like a volcano in springtime. The second I’m out of Kai’s space, he sags like he just survived an exorcism.

He’s about to speak again. I hold up a finger.

“Ah-ah. Not one word. Go. Away. Before I use your teeth to spell ‘sorry’ in the wall.”

He’s gone in five seconds flat.

Zane walks by just as he flees and raises a brow. “Was that… necessary?”

I shrug. “What? He’s fine. Probably.”

“Likely concussed from fear,” Zane murmurs.

I smirk. “Good. Next time he’ll flinch before he flaps his mouth.”

I turn back toward her. She’s still curled on the mat, blinking at me with a half-smile and a raised brow. I wipe my hands and roll my shoulders like the whole hallway didn’t just quake.

“What?” I mutter. “He deserved it.”