You barely made it halfway down the corridor before the footsteps behind you turned sharp, echoing with purpose. You didn’t even have to turn to know who it was.

Mattheo didn’t chase people. He hunted them.

“Running to Tom,” he said, voice low, amused in the way that made your stomach twist. “Really?”

You stopped. You shouldn’t have. But his voice always had that effect on you.

He came up behind you slowly, heat rolling off him, breath brushing the back of your neck.

“My older brother,” he continued, a soft laugh slipping through. “You’re making a huge mistake here, sunshine.”

You turned, ready to snap back at him, but the moment your eyes met his, everything inside you stilled. That look — dark, knowing, too familiar — it always found the cracks in your resolve.

Mattheo stepped closer.

“I have marked you in ways he could never even think of.”

His fingers grazed your wrist, just barely, but the shiver that ran through your body betrayed you instantly.

“And you think you’re his?” His smile widened, slow and cruel. “You’re not fooling anyone.”

He lifted your chin with two fingers, forcing your gaze to stay locked with his.

“I can still feel it,” he whispered. “The way you tense around me… the way your breath hitches just from inhaling my scent.”

Your throat tightened. You hated that he noticed. You hated even more that he was right.

“And when those beautiful eyes lock with mine…” His forehead nearly brushed yours now. “You can still tell you belong to me.”

His voice dropped to a dark murmur, each word brushing against your skin.

“Mind. Body. And soul.”

Your heart hammered. Your mind screamed to step back. Your body stayed exactly where it was — too close, too warm, too drawn to him in all the wrong ways.

Mattheo’s smirk deepened.

“Tom can try,” he whispered. “But he’ll never touch what’s already mine.”