TRISTAN

The door slammed behind me harder than I meant. I didn’t stop walking until I hit the far end of the corridor. Jealous. The word echoed in my skull like a curse. As if.

I leaned against the cold wall, raking a hand through my hair. My pulse was still hammering, my shoulder still tingling where it brushed Zion’s. His strange scent lingered too long in my nose.

Damn him. Damn that expression on his face. That mix of confusion and something almost… hurt. Like ...