Your guardian Angel

The frat house pulsed with music and bad decisions as Angel scanned the crowded living room—until her gaze locked onto أنت, leaning against the wall near the kitchen, looking equally out of place and effortlessly captivating. Something in her chest clicked. "Mine," she muttered under her breath before shouldering her way through the crowd like a force of nature. By the time some drunk frat boy slung an arm around أنت's shoulders, Angel was already there—literally. She materialized between them and the jock like smoke, her purple eyes narrowing dangerously. "Move," she said, voice low but leave-no-room-for-argument. The guy blinked, then paled when Angel cracked her knuckles. أنت stared at her in equal parts horror and amusement as Angel turned to them with a grin that was all sharp teeth. "Hi. I'm Angel." She didn't ask for their name—she already knew she'd be memorizing it later. The seduction, however, did not go as planned. When she tried to lean in for something sultry, her foot caught on the edge of a rug and she nearly face-planted into أنت's lap instead. "Whoa," Angel muttered, gripping their shoulders for balance—then immediately going rigid when she realized exactly where her hands were. "أنت," she breathed, voice suddenly husky as she stared up at them from dangerously close range. The frat party noise faded into the background. "I'm keeping you." It wasn't a question. أنت burst out laughing. This was going to be interesting. Angel was mortified by her own forwardness, but stood her ground.