Chapter 292: 292 | A Territorial Person
I reached for her hand and pulled her toward me, guiding her into the next stretch position. This one put her back against my chest, her arms extended overhead while I supported her weight. Her body pressed against mine in a long line of warmth, her head tilting back until it rested against my shoulder.
"I missed you," I said again, quieter this time. "The sixteen hours felt longer than they should have."
The wariness in the bond softened. Her body relaxed against mine, the tension draining from her muscles as the emotional truth of my words reached her through our connection.
"Good," she murmured. "Because I’m claiming you for lunch. And dinner. And possibly breakfast tomorrow depending on how today goes."
"That’s a lot of claiming."
"I’m a territorial person."
"I’ve noticed."
She laughed again, the vibration of it traveling through her body into mine. "You like it."
I did like it. The possessiveness should have felt suffocating, should have triggered every instinct toward freedom and independence that had defined my approach to relationships before the System started manipulating my life. Instead it felt comfortable. Natural. Like something I had been missing without knowing it was missing until Sloane walked into my room that first night and decided I belonged to her.
The Heroine Bond Resonance pulsed between us, the two-way emotional connection carrying feelings that neither of us needed to articulate. She felt my contentment. I felt her satisfaction at being the one who caused it.
"Your turn," she said, pulling away and turning to face me. "Stretch."
I bent forward, letting her hands find my lower back the same way mine had found hers. Her palms were warm and steady, her pressure exactly right to deepen the stretch without causing pain. She knew my body well enough by now to understand its limits, to push against them without crossing them.
"So," she said, her voice casual in a way that was definitely not casual. "Anything interesting happen in the 1-B dorms last night?"
"Why would anything interesting happen in the 1-B dorms?"
"Because you live there. And because interesting things seem to follow you around like particularly persistent weather patterns."
"That’s a weird metaphor."
"Answer the question."
"Nothing happened."
The lie came out smooth and automatic, delivered with the confidence of someone who had decided that certain information was better kept private for the time being. The bond between us flickered with something that might have been skepticism, but Sloane didn’t push. Either she believed me or she had decided to let me keep my secrets until they became relevant.
Probably the second option.
Sloane was smart enough to know when I was holding things back, and patient enough to wait until the right moment to demand explanations.
"Hey, Sloane."
She paused in her pressure application. "Yeah?"
"You have Hero Basics today, right?"
"This afternoon. Why?"
"Radiant’s teaching it."
Her hands went still on my back. "What?"
I straightened from the stretch and turned to face her, enjoying the expression of genuine shock that had replaced her usual composed confidence. Her blue eyes were wide, her lips parted slightly, and for a moment she looked less like the powerful heroine who had claimed my heart and more like a fan who had just learned her celebrity crush was in the building.
"Radiant," I repeated. "America’s number one hero. He’s teaching Hero Basics for the first-year cohort."
"You’re serious."
"Dead serious. He taught our class yesterday. Gave a whole speech about failure being the only worthwhile teacher. Then he demonstrated his speed by moving so fast the displaced air knocked papers off desks."
Sloane grabbed my arm again, her grip tighter than before. "Lukas. Radiant. Is teaching. Our class."
"That’s what I said."
"How are you this calm about it?"
"Because I already had my freak-out yesterday."
"I haven’t had mine yet!"
Her voice rose enough to draw attention from nearby students, and she caught herself before the exclamation could become a genuine scene. Felicity looked over with an expression of amused curiosity. Caden gave a thumbs up that could have meant anything. Petra’s attention sharpened in a way that suggested she was filing this reaction away for later analysis.
Sloane lowered her voice, though the excitement still vibrated through every word. "Radiant is the reason I wanted to become a hero. When I was seven, he saved my entire neighborhood from a flood. He moved so fast he created a wall of displaced air that held back the water while evacuation teams got everyone out. I watched him do it from my bedroom window. That was the moment I knew what I wanted to be."
I hadn’t known that.
The bond between us carried the emotional truth of the memory, the awe and inspiration and determination that had shaped the direction of her entire life. She wasn’t just excited to meet a celebrity. She was about to come face to face with the person who had made her who she was.
"Hey." I reached up and tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, the gesture intimate enough to draw fresh attention from our observers. "He’s going to be impressed by you."
"You don’t know that."
"I know you. And I know that anyone who spends five minutes watching you in action is going to understand exactly why you’re at Halloran."
Her eyes softened. The excitement was still there, but underneath it was something warmer, something that the Devotion’s Echo carried between us like a gift wrapped in emotional subtext.
"You’re good at that," she said quietly.
"Good at what?"
"Saying the exact thing I need to hear."
"It’s a talent."
"It’s annoying."
"You love it."
She didn’t deny it. Instead she stepped closer, close enough that her chest brushed against mine, close enough that I could feel the heat of her body through the thin compression fabric of our gym uniforms. Her hand found my waist, her fingers spreading across my side in a gesture that was possessive and tender at the same time.
"I really did miss you," she murmured.
"Sixteen hours is a long time."
"It felt longer."
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