Chapter 18 CLAIM & COMMAND
Clara's POV:
My breath hitched even more, and Jake still hadn’t realized Professor Asher was standing right behind him.
Just as I flicked my eyes back to Jake, I swallowed hard - and that tiny movement must’ve caught his attention, because his brows drew together slightly, and his eyes narrowed at me like he was trying to read me.
Then, slowly, he turned around.
The moment his eyes locked with Professor Asher’s, the air shifted - heavier. Charged. Electric.
Jake didn’t look away. He held his gaze.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Professor Asher’s expression darken - not outright anger, but something colder. Quieter. Controlled. And more dangerous.
His eyes narrowed slightly, sharp enough to slice through steel. And for a second, it didn’t even feel like we were in the hallway anymore.
It felt primal - Like two forces measuring dominance in silence.
And I wasn't sure if I saw right, but there was something in Jake’s eyes too - a flicker of defiance that made my stomach twist.
I’d always known Jake could be bold, maybe even reckless, but watching him now… holding eye contact with Professor Asher the same way he had a few hours ago in this very hallway - without even flinching - it honestly scared me.
Just as I thought of saying something, maybe to acknowledge Professor Asher’s presence or at least diffuse the awkwardness, Jake beat me to it.
“Oh, it’s you… Professor Asher,” he said, his tone casual - too casual - like he wasn’t standing face-to-face with someone who couldn't crush him with a single look.
The kind of tone that wasn't respect or fear... but challenge.
Professor Asher didn’t reply immediately. His gaze lingered on Jake for a second before shifting to me.
“Miss Bennett,” he said evenly, voice clipped but calm.
“Come with me to my office.”
My throat went dry. I swallowed hard, feeling the air grow hotter even though the sun had already dipped low and the hallway lights had just flickered on.
My throat went dry. I swallowed hard as the air around us grew hotter, heavier.
The atmosphere felt suffocating - tense in a way that made my skin prickle.
As Professor Asher turned to leave, Jake’s voice cut through the stillness.
“Umm… why does Clara have to go with you, Sir?”
Professor Asher paused mid-step. Slowly, he turned back around.
“Pardon?” He said, voice low - controlled, but laced with warning.
Jake lifted his hands slightly, smirking. “Not questioning you, sir,” he said smoothly. “Just asking. Seeing as we’re done for the day, I’m surprised you still need her. Didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”
Then, softer but with a dangerous ease, Jake added - loud enough for me to hear, feeling like a shove to the ribs: “Besides, I kinda planned to have Clara all to myself, so I'm surprised you're taking her.”
The words landed like a dare.
My skin prickled; my heart kicked against my ribs.
Part of me wanted to snap at him - for saying that, for making me sound like something to be claimed.
But another quieter part - the part that had been nailed down by fear and tangled secrets - recoiled.
Did he say it to spite professor Asher? Or was he trying to stake something real?
Either way, hearing him say it aloud in front of Professor Asher made the whole thing feel more dangerous, more exposed.
My pulse thudded in my ears. I could feel the hot flush of embarrassment and something like alarm curling up my spine. I did not want to be anyone’s spectacle. Not his. not Jakes'. Not anyone's.
Professor Asher’s expression gave away absolutely nothing. It was unreadable- eyes steady, face composed, as if he was quietly assessing jake.
The silence between them stretched, heavy and unbearable.
And even though I’d seen Professor Asher angry before, this unreadable version of him was somehow worse.
When he was angry, you could sense fire and at least I knew where I stood - what to expect, how to behave. But this calmness? This was terrifying. This was control. Ice-cold restraint.
Both men stood still, their gazes locked like two opposing forces measuring strength. Jake, shorter and younger, didn’t back down - his signature smirk still playing on his lips, confidence oozing from every part of him.
Professor Asher, on the other hand, stood tall, his face inscrutable, his hands relaxed at his sides - a quiet authority that didn’t need words to intimidate.
And here I was, caught between them, feeling the tension thick enough to choke on.
I opened my mouth, about to say something - anything - before this silent staring contest turned into something worse, but before I could speak, Professor Asher finally moved.
He turned around smoothly and began walking away, his voice calm but firm as it echoed down the hallway.
“Five minutes, Miss Bennett.”
His hands were tucked into his pockets, his strides steady, confident, controlled - like nothing in the world could shake him.
And as I watched him disappear around the corner, my heart thudded violently in my chest, because deep down, I knew exactly what that calm meant. That meant fury.
But for what exactly?
I turned to Jake. His eyes were still on the path Professor Asher had vanished into, his expression unreadable but strangely thoughtful.
The corner of his lips tugged upward ever so slightly, while his brows furrowed faintly - like he was lost somewhere between amusement and calculation.
I couldn’t help wondering about what he was thinking.
Was he proud of what he said? Or regretting it?
I couldn’t tell.
Before I could move past him, his arm came up gently, blocking my path.
“Leaving already?” he murmured, tone low, teasing. “Without giving me an answer?”
I took a breath, before meeting his gaze. His eyes were steady on mine - warm, but with that same unreadable edge. I said nothing.
Jake exhaled sharply, his shoulders lowering a little. Then he licked his lips, a nervous chuckle escaping.
“Oh Damn,” he muttered. “Guess I did it again, huh? Staking a claim over you.”
Still, I stayed silent. My eyes drifted briefly to the floor before finding his again.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Fine, I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “But tell me I’m wrong to care, Clara.”
The words landed softer than I expected. Not defensive - just uncertain.
I didn’t answer. I just shifted my weight slightly, my gaze flicking away from his.
Jake rubbed the back of his neck, then looked at me again. “Alright then,” he said. “What about my question? The date?”
That made me stop. I turned to face him fully, his expression expectant, the hallway light catching the soft crease between his brows.
I hesitated, then said quietly, “I’ll think about it.”
For a second, he just stared at me. Then a small, almost knowing smile broke on his lips. “Fair enough.” he said simply.
Then, before I could react, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead.
It was brief. Gentle.
The kind of gesture that should’ve stirred something inside me.
But instead… I felt nothing.
No spark. No warmth. Just emptiness.
I managed a small smile at him, polite, almost apologetic, before turning to walk away.
I could still feel his gaze on me as I disappeared down the hallway, every step echoing against the tiled floor until I turned the corner - and he was no longer in sight.
That was when it hit me.
The nervousness. The ache in my chest.
It crawled up my chest like a wave, making my pulse quicken as I realized where I was heading to - Professor Asher's office.
It wasn’t the first time I’d been alone with him, but this time felt different. More private... More charged.
The hallway was quiet now, almost hauntingly so. And as I walked, flashes of that night - that blissful night - snuck into my mind, uninvited and vivid. His voice, his touch, the silence that said everything.
I swallowed hard.
Was he calling me to talk… or was it going to be another one of those times again where silence filled the space instead of words?
Before I knew it, I was standing before the black mahogany door - his door - with Professor A. Blackwood engraved boldly across the polished plate.
The sight of his name alone sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. There was something about it - something that carried power, weight, and memory.
I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to steady my heartbeat. Then, with a quiet exhale, I lifted my knuckles and knocked twice.
For a moment, silence.
Then his voice - deep, calm, and commanding, came from the other side.
“Come in.”
I hesitated only for a second before twisting the knob and stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind me.
And when I turned around-
I froze.
Professor Asher sat behind his desk, elbows resting on the armrest, hands clasped beneath his chin. His eyes were on me - steady, unblinking, and dark.
He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just watched.
The air between us was heavy again - thick with something unspoken.
And in that stillness, I realized-
This wasn’t anger I was feeling from him.
It was control.
Pure, restrained control.
And God help me, that was far more dangerous.