Chapter 13 : The Space Between

Three days had passed.

Three days since Dr. Adrian Blackwood had walked the familiar halls of the university. Three days since Emily had seen that precise, unreadable expression carved into his face; the mask of control and calculation that made him so impossible to read. Three days since she'd heard the soft echo of his footsteps trailing behind her, like a ghost she couldn't catch.

Three days without the clipped, measured voice that always carried the faintest edge of command when he spoke her name. Without the quiet weight of his gaze, pressing down on her like gravity invisible but undeniable.

And yet, despite his absence, despite the hollow space he'd left behind, she could still feel him everywhere.

In the still, hushed corners of the lecture halls where he used to stand, his presence almost palpable in the air. In the tense silence that settled before class, that heavy pause when the door might swing open and he might appear; but never did.

In the tightening grip around her chest whenever she passed the long, dim corridor where they'd last crossed paths, her heartbeat rising in the shadow of memory.

"Dr. Blackwood's taken temporary leave," one of the administrative staff had said to her, voice low and careful, as if speaking of something fragile. "He didn't give any details, just said it was urgent."

Urgent.

The word rolled over in her mind like a cold, smooth stone, too heavy, too vague. It didn't fit the man she thought she knew.

Adrian Blackwood was never hurried. Never rattled. He moved through life with the steady precision of a metronome, composed and unshakable, always so infuriatingly in control.

So what kind of storm could possibly pull him away from that rigid world he kept wrapped around himself like armor?

At first, she told herself it didn't matter. She threw herself into her studies, distracted herself with deadlines and lectures. She even found herself paying more attention to Jake — who, despite his usual confident ease, had grown quieter lately, his texts less frequent, his tone dimmed.

She focused on everything but Adrian Blackwood.

But trying not to think of him was like trying not to breathe; impossible, suffocating, and utterly consuming.

Now, standing by the window of her small apartment, arms wrapped tightly around herself as if to hold her own trembling frame together, she let the thought rise again.

Should I go to him?

Would he even want to see me?

Would he open the door if I knocked?

Or would he turn away, pushing me out of the fortress he built so carefully around his pain?

A thousand questions circled her mind, dark and restless like vultures in flight.

But the one whispering loudest the one she couldn't silence was this:

What if something's wrong?

Meanwhile, across town…

Adrian stood by the cold marble counter, his hands gripping the edge tightly. His knuckles were white, his fingers trembling like they were holding on for dear life. He breathed hard through clenched teeth, uneven and rough, like smoke trying to escape a dying fire. His shirt was open, soaked in sweat, sticking to the strong muscles of his chest and arms. Every little movement made his body twitch, as if a storm was trying to break free under his skin.

Hours ago, he had closed the thick velvet curtains not to block the sunlight, but to hide his weakness from the world outside. The darkness behind the curtains was a shield, a safe place where the wild beast inside him could crawl closer to the surface without being seen.

This feeling the Crimson Tide had hit him like a sudden flood after a long, dry drought. It was fierce, wild, and overwhelming. For years, Adrian believed he had beaten it. He had trained himself to stay in control mind over feeling, logic over desire. He built walls so tall around his urges that even the strongest cravings bowed to his will.

But this time, it was different.

It wasn't hunger for blood. It wasn't thirst.

It was something deeper, stronger something raw and wild that tore at his bones and set his blood on fire. It was an ancient call inside him, written in his very DNA, a force he could neither fight nor control.

And it was because of her.

Emily.

Her name was like a curse he couldn't shake, a whisper in the dark that beat in his chest like a drum. Every nerve in his body screamed for her. He remembered her voice soft but strong. He smelled her scent on his shirt sleeve lavender mixed with something richer, more intimate and maddening. He saw her eyes, steady and fearless, looking through all his masks.

She was the light in the dark place he'd lived in for so long.

The Crimson Tide wasn't just a physical fight. It was breaking down every wall he'd built his cold distance, his control, his careful keeping away.

Every second the Tide rushed through him, it was a battle between the man he tried to be and the monster inside.

He tried hard to stay steady, to keep the beast locked away. To fight the urge to call her, to pull her close, to claim her.

But then a fresh wave hit him a burning shock that made his muscles tighten and his breath catch so hard he almost fell. He pressed his back against the rough wall, growling low as he clenched his jaw, trying to hold himself together.

He was alone.

For two days, Adrian had been alone with this fire.

Alone with his body betraying him.

Because the Crimson Tide wasn't just in his mind or soul, it was in his flesh too.

His body reacted without his permission.

Every time he thought of Emily, his body betrayed him with aching hardness erections rising fierce and uncontrollable. The tension in his muscles wasn't just anger or need it was raw desire, burning and painful.

He tried to hide it, to control it, but it was impossible.

He ripped off his sweat-soaked shirt and stumbled to the old claw-foot tub at the back of his apartment. The cold water was a relief the icy touch stung his skin and slowed the fire in his veins for a moment. He sank in, hoping the chill would calm his body and mind.

But the cold couldn't stop the Crimson Tide.

Meditation, which used to be his refuge, had failed. The craving was too strong.

Under the water, he clenched his fists so tightly the porcelain tub creaked. Waves of torment rolled through him, washing away his control and leaving him raw and exposed.

His heart pounded loud in his ears. Each breath reminded him of what he wanted but could not have.

For two days, he suffered in silence, fighting a battle no one else could see.

He paced the rooms, tried breathing exercises, forced himself to stay busy. But nothing worked.

The need only grew stronger.

And all the while, Emily haunted him. Her scent in the air, her voice in his mind, the memory of her touch things he had not allowed himself to seek but couldn't forget.

He was caught in a war between the man he wanted to be and the ancient hunger inside him.

Two days alone.

Two days fighting fire with cold water, clenched fists, and sheer will.

And the fight was far from over.