The noise of the cafeteria blurred—muffled behind the pressure building in Michael’s skull.

He wasn’t touching his food. Fork idle. Muscles tight. That familiar hollow ache creeping up his spine like something feral, something territorial.

Because she walked in.

With him.

Some guy with a button-up collar, dark curls, and a smug smile like he didn’t have a clue he was walking beside his girl.

Michael clenched his jaw.

“They look cozy,” Damon muttered beside him, tone edged in amusement.

Will gave a low whistle. “Is that her new boyfriend?”

Kai took a slow sip of his water, eyes tracking Michael. “You gonna say something, or just burn a hole in her head with your stare?”

Michael didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just watched as she laughed at something the guy said—her head thrown back, that radiant, unguarded expression on her face—the kind Michael hadn’t seen in days.

She sat down at a table near the windows, the guy sitting just a little too close. Michael’s hand curled into a fist beneath the table.

He didn’t say anything.

Didn’t get up.

Didn’t ask her who the guy was.

He just watched.

His friends let the silence stretch, because they knew better than to prod when he was like this.

When she looked over—like she could feel his gaze—Michael didn’t look away. Just held her stare from across the room, unreadable, cold, his jaw clenched and eyes dark.

Her smile faltered.

And that was enough for now.

He didn’t need to say a word to make his point.