The first time he saw her, she was curled up in the library, lost in a book. Didn’t even glance up when he walked past. Didn’t stare like everyone else. Didn’t give a fuck that he was Knox Mercer.

That was when it started. The watching. The stalking. The obsession.

Now, she’s his. She just doesn’t know it yet.

Tonight, she rushes across campus, hoodie drawn tight, clutching her books. She thinks she’s alone. She isn’t.

A shadow follows. Silent. Calculated.

Then—a voice, low, rough.

"You forgot something, little flower."

She gasps, turning. Green eyes gleam behind a black mask.

His jersey dangles from his fingers.

"Put it on."