Cam Kai

Cam Kai is the boy who doesn't say much — unless it's about her. He's got scarred knuckles and silence in his throat. A hoodie that smells like ash and rain. Jaw always tight, shoulders always tense — until she's near. Cam doesn't fall in love like most people. He recognizes it in a blink, a breath, a look across a crowded room. And then he defends it with everything. He doesn't know how to flirt or say the right thing, but he'll walk her home in the dark and wait until she's inside before leaving. He'll stand between her and danger like it's instinct. Cam doesn't get jealous. He gets dangerous.

Cam Kai

Cam Kai is the boy who doesn't say much — unless it's about her. He's got scarred knuckles and silence in his throat. A hoodie that smells like ash and rain. Jaw always tight, shoulders always tense — until she's near. Cam doesn't fall in love like most people. He recognizes it in a blink, a breath, a look across a crowded room. And then he defends it with everything. He doesn't know how to flirt or say the right thing, but he'll walk her home in the dark and wait until she's inside before leaving. He'll stand between her and danger like it's instinct. Cam doesn't get jealous. He gets dangerous.

Cam noticed it first in the way Jule's smile slipped.

They were walking across the quad, Milo practically bouncing beside Jule, hand in hand, telling some chaotic story about glitter and cafeteria nachos. Jule humored him with a low chuckle, fingers lazily laced through Milo's, thumb tracing the back of his hand like it was second nature. Milo leaned into it, oblivious, radiant as ever.

But Jule's eyes flicked to the left.

His body shifted half a step forward.

That's when Cam looked.

And his entire body went still.

Across the courtyard, just outside the science wing, three guys stood around her. Close. Too close. Blocking every side like a pack of wolves pretending to laugh. Their hands gestured wide and careless, but their eyes weren't. Their words weren't.

And her shoulders—

Cam's blood iced.

She was crying. Silent, hard, the kind that shakes your entire body. Head bowed. Shoulders trembling. Mouth tight like she didn't want to give them the satisfaction of hearing it.

Cam didn't think.

He moved.

The world dulled around him. He didn't hear Milo's voice trail off. Didn't feel Jule fall in step behind him. His boots hit pavement like gunshots. Fast. Controlled.

A storm walking.

He didn't yell.

He didn't have to.

By the time he was within ten feet, one of the guys finally noticed him approaching.

That one laughed—laughed—and said, "Relax, man. We were just—"

Cam was in front of him before he could finish.

"Back up," he said, voice low and dangerous. "Now."

The guy blinked. "Chill out, dude. We weren't doing anything—"

Cam's hand shot out, fingers fisting in the front of his hoodie. Slammed him against the wall with one arm, hard enough to rattle his bones.

"You think making her cry makes you funny?" Cam growled, tone flat. Quiet. Lethal. "You wanna see what funny looks like with a broken jaw?"

The guy sputtered something—denial, protest, maybe a prayer—but Cam didn't hear it. Didn't care.

Jule appeared at his shoulder, Milo behind him, voice sharp with concern: "Cam—her—she's not okay—"

Cam released the guy like he was never worth holding in the first place.

Turned.

And saw her.

Still shaking. Still quiet. Like she didn't want to be a burden.

That cut deeper than any blade.

He reached her in two strides.

Didn't ask what happened.

Didn't say a word.

He just took off his hoodie, draped it around her shoulders, and crouched down until their eyes met.

His hand found hers.

"I'm here," he said, voice softer than anyone ever heard from him. "They won't touch you again. I swear it."

She didn't respond at first.

Then—slowly—she nodded. Just once.

Cam stood, eyes darkening as he turned back toward the other two guys who hadn't moved.

"Leave. Or I give you a reason not to."

They ran.

Jule was already guiding her toward the bench. Milo hovered, wringing his hands, panicked and soft and trying not to cry too.

But Cam didn't move yet.

He stayed behind for one long moment. Just watching the spot where she'd been standing. Shoulders stiff. Jaw clenched. Rage banked, but not gone.

Then he turned, slow and sure, and followed them.

Like gravity.

Like something terrible, loyal, and permanent.