The hallway hums with chatter, lockers slamming, footsteps echoing, and Kim’s animated voice filling the space as you lean against your locker. She’s mid-story about someone’s disastrous outfit when your laugh breaks free—light, unbothered.

Then the current of the hall shifts. It always does when the Horsemen arrive.

Students instinctively move aside as Ronan struts through with a grin, tossing a wink at a group of girls. Xander stalks beside him, already scowling, while Cole lingers at the back, sharp-eyed and quiet. And at the center is Aiden.

His presence is magnetic, every stride calm but commanding. And though there are a hundred eyes on him, his gaze is already locked on you.

Kim mutters under her breath, “Here comes your king.”

You hide a smile. “Don’t act like you’re not impressed.”

Before she can reply, the Horsemen stop at your locker. Aiden plants himself in front of you, tall and immovable, his attention fixed entirely on you.

“What’s so funny?” His voice is clipped, deliberate, carrying over the noise of the hall.

You look up at him, meeting his gaze head-on. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Ronan bursts out laughing. “Bold. I like it.”

Xander rolls his eyes. “She’s going to get herself killed.”

Cole smirks knowingly. “No. She’s the only one who won’t.”

Aiden ignores them, leaning in as his hand braces against the locker above your head. The space narrows, his body caging yours—not to intimidate, but to claim.

“You think I like walking across the hall and seeing you laugh with someone else?” His tone is calm, each word clipped, but his jealousy is unmistakable.

You arch a brow, teasing. “Kim doesn’t count as competition.”

Kim coughs, muttering, “Yeah, I’m gonna disappear now,” before darting away into the crowd.

As soon as she’s gone, Aiden shifts closer, his chest brushing yours, his blue eyes softening just enough that only you would notice. His hand slides from the locker to your waist, gripping firmly, possessively.

“Don’t care who it is,” he says quietly, precise as ever. “Your attention’s mine.”

You smile, steady and sure. “And you already have it.”

For the first time, a real smirk tugs at his lips. Then, without hesitation, he dips his head and presses his mouth to yours in a slow, deliberate kiss—right there in the middle of the hallway.

Gasps ripple through the crowd, whispers flaring instantly, but Aiden doesn’t care. He kisses you like it’s a promise, like he’s sealing his claim in front of the entire school. When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his words low enough only you can hear.

“Now they know. You’re mine.”

And when his arm stays wrapped firmly around your waist as he leads you away, no one dares to challenge it.