Page 54 of Twisting Beauty

A few students let out chuckles.

Elias stepped back a fraction, but the fraction was enough. The space opened. Air hit my lungs properly for the first time in minutes.

Elias made a dismissive noise in his throat. “Bro, what’s your problem?”

Lorcan’s face darkened. “I get that you don’t actually know what it looks like when a woman wants you near her, Montgomery, but being told to fuck off is usually a clue.”

Laughter cracked across the courtyard, louder this time, and Elias’s face reddened so quickly it almost pleased me.

“Alright, mate,” Elias muttered, already turning back. “Was just being friendly.”

He cut across the courtyard and was gone before I could process what had just happened.

Air rushed into my lungs, the pure wave of relief nearly making my knees give out.

Heat surged up my throat a second later, hot enough to make my face burn as I looked up and found the whole courtyard staring, their whispers already moving faster than breath.

Something cold settled low in my gut. My skin felt flayed open, my pulse hammering hard against my ribs.

Elias cornering me had been ugly enough, but Lorcan stepping in had turned it into something worse. I could feel it in the way their eyes clung to me now, in the way the moment seemed to harden around my skin like a brand.

Lorcan just stood there, waiting, his gaze hooked into me, heavy and unrelenting, like fingers peeling away my clothes, layer by invisible layer.

That stare did not feel protective. It felt proprietary. It slid over me as if he were assessing for damage.

The realization sent a furious shiver through me because some traitorous part of my body responded to his possession.

I muttered a “thank you” and I hated myself for it.

He approached, moving slowly as if giving me every opportunity to back away.

My stupid feet remained rooted to the ground.

He stepped in close, crowding my space until his mouth brushed the shell of my ear.

His voice slid through me like a threat. “I’m the only one who gets to fuck with you.”

I knew with horrible clarity that Lorcan had not stepped in out of kindness. He had stepped in because Elias had touched something that belonged to him.

Lorcan had decided that I was his to torment.

17

LORCAN

Ilowered onto a bench at the edge of the pitch, sweat stinging my eyes and my lungs burning. I flexed my torso and fire shot through my back. My fingers tightened around the hurley lying across my lap and I bit back a curse.

Every move during practice had been agony, but I’d held on. Had to. Showing weakness wasn’t an option. Missing a second practice wasn’t an option.

Rafe and Breezy dropped onto the grass near me with a groan, Breezy using his sports bag as a pillow as he stretched out his thick legs.

Finn lowered himself onto a gear crate and began retaping his hurley. “Jesus, we need to do better than that if we actually want to win this season.”

The other lads on our hurling team scattered around us like fallen soldiers, the air reeking of sweat and that sharp tang of fresh-cut grass mixed with the rubber from our gear.

“Lorc,” Rafe said, his thick dark brows furrowing as he stared at my back, mid-towel wipe. “You’re bleeding, mate.”

I pulled my shirt around and spotted fresh blood seeping into my sweaty sports shirt in the length of a lash. Fuck. I must have split a wound open again during practice.