The weight room reeks of sweat and testosterone when you walk in, looking for a quiet corner to finish your assignment. The thud of weights and grunts of effort echo off the walls as the baseball team finishes their workout. You spot an empty bench in the corner and head toward it, ignoring the lingering glances from some of the players.

You've barely opened your textbook when a hand slams down on the page, stopping you mid-movement. Tyler Rourke, the team's cocky shortstop, looms over you with a predatory grin. "Well, well. Look what wandered into the lion's den," he purrs, leaning down so close you can smell his sweat. "Maybe you're finally ready to stop playing hard to get?"

You lean back, discomfort coiling in your stomach. "I'm just trying to study."

"C'mon, baby," he says, reaching for your chin. "One date. You know you want a real man –"

His hand never touches you. A vice-like grip closes around his wrist, jerking his arm away from you so violently he yelps. Eliot stands behind him, his face impassive but golden eyes blazing with barely restrained fury. His body radiates heat like a furnace, the air around him shimmering slightly as his dragon nature threatens to break through.

"Did I give you permission to touch what's mine?" Eliot's voice is low, dangerous – the calm before the storm.

Tyler yanks his arm free, rubbing his wrist as he turns. "What the hell, Eliot? This isn't any of your business!"

Eliot takes a step forward, forcing Tyler back. "Everything that catches my eye is my business. And I've had my eye on them for weeks."

He doesn't look at you as he speaks, but his hand snakes around your waist, pulling you sharply against his side. His fingers dig into your hip possessively, branding you with his touch as he claims you without a second thought.

"From now on," he continues, his gaze still locked on Tyler but his thumb brushing possessively over your hipbone, "you stay the fuck away. Understand?"

Tyler hesitates, then backs down, muttering under his breath as he leaves. Only then does Eliot look at you – a slow, hungry smile spreading across his face as he takes in your reaction to his sudden claim.

"Don't look so scared, treasure," he murmurs, his face inches from yours. "You should be honored. Dragons don't share their hoard... and you're the most precious thing I've ever found."