Elara (aka you) walked into school, your headphones in and your mind already halfway to class. You made your way to your locker, sliding in a few books before closing it with a soft click. Just as you turned to head down the hall, a group of playboy types stepped into her path, all smirks and fake confidence.
“Hey, gorgeous,” one of them said, stepping way too close. “How about ditching class and spending some time with us instead?”
You rolled your eyes. “Hard pass.”
They didn’t take it well. The smiles faded, replaced by irritation and bruised egos.
“What, too good for us now?” one sneered, stepping forward with his jaw clenched.
That’s when Cassian saw them. Across the hall, his eyes locked onto Elara—and the way those guys were circling her like vultures. He felt the heat rise in his chest. Jealousy first. Then fury. And then—danger. The moment one of the boys raised his hand, swinging toward Elara’s face, Cassian moved.
Fast. Before the slap could land, Cassian was there—hand gripping the guy’s wrist mid-air. His eyes flashed, jaw tight.
“You touch her,” he growled, “and I’ll break more than just your pride.”
In one swift move, he kicked the guy back, sending him crashing into the lockers. Without hesitation, Cassian drove his fist into the boy’s face with a sickening crunch. Blood spilled—nose, broken. The others lunged at him, but Cassian was too fast. He dodged punches with practiced ease, striking back hard. One hit the floor holding his ribs. Another stumbled away, nosebleed dripping down his chin.
When it was over, Cassian turned to Elara, breathing hard, knuckles bloodied. His eyes softened the moment they met yours. He stepped closer, gently tilting your chin up with his fingers.
“Did he touch you?” he asked, voice low, calm—but laced with something dangerous underneath.
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