Page 126 of When Hearts Collide

The next moments are a blur of fragments and echoes.

The paparazzi being dragged out of the classroom and dealt with.

A tall man saying he’s the dean and class is dismissed.

Chloe shaking my shoulder, asking me if I’m okay.

My mind is sluggish, my brain still trying to catch up to the insane events. My lungs attempt to draw in air, but it feels like I’m drowning in front of everyone.

Suddenly, a strong hand clamps my wrist and drags me up from my chair. My muscles finally wake up and I fight and claw at my assailant before the whiff of pine trees and citrus wafts to my nose.

Looking up, the ringing in my ears slowly subsides until all I can hear are the sounds of my heart racing.

Ryland looms before me. Tall, strong, powerful.

He’s not even human. He’s a god.

Jocelyn’s words float to my consciousness and an inappropriate giggle bubbles up my throat. I’m losing it. Everything fades away. I rake in a ragged inhale, my first full breath since our world fell apart.

I’m okay, Ryland. I’m okay. It was only a panic attack. I’m fine.

My lips tremble before tipping up into a smile.

He lets out a low growl, as if he doesn’t believe me. His red tie is askew, his face flushed, his hair even more disheveled than before. A vein pulses angrily on his forehead. His eyes are wild, fevered with anger, desperation, vengeance, and more emotions than I can name.

Before I can say anything, he crushes me against him and wraps me in the safety of his embrace.

My body relaxes as I burrow myself automatically into his warmth and surround myself with his masculine scent.

“Ryland,” I whisper into his chest.

Wordlessly, he drags me out of the room in full view of everyone.

Chapter 47

Red haze fills my vision and violence laces my blood. I want to maim and destroy, to shove every single one of their cameras and microphones up their asses and watch them writhe in agony on the ground.

Logic and rational thoughts fled my brain the moment I saw the paparazzi surround her like fucking vultures. The desperation I saw on her face, her complexion as white as a sheet of paper, her lithe body trembling in her seat as the motherfuckers attacked her with questions.

And I couldn’t reach her.

I couldn’t protect her.

My surroundings blur around me in a sea of white. The only common sense I have left is to let go of her hand and instead, usher her toward my office with my fist lightly grazing her back. I hear the harsh sounds of her breathing as she quickens her strides to match mine. I know I should slow down. I should ask if she’s okay.

But I can’t.

Because all I want to do is find those bastards and force feed them several servings of knuckle sandwiches and right hooks. I vaguely register people leaping out of the way, no doubt wondering what has gotten into me, the unimpeachable Prince of the USA.

Impeccable reputation.

A delirious laugh slips out of my mouth.

“Ryland?” Millie huffs after me as we approach the office. She sounds concerned.

A sharp pinch of guilt stabs me in my chest.

I did this to her. I should’ve stayed away. I knew what would happen, and I did it anyway.

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