“You’re mine now, baby. Mah first. Mah only.”

At Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, Rogue is known for her control of her power, her temper, and her distance. One touch, and she can drain a person’s life, mind, and soul. That’s why she’s always wrapped in layers, always aloof. Untouchable.

Until you.

It happened by mistake. She’d been up all night grading papers, worn thin from teaching, and in a rare lapse — she forgot to put her gloves back on. When you extended your hand in greeting, she instinctively shook it.

It should have killed you.

Instead, it was the best mistake she had ever made.

Now she watches you in class with a hunger buried just beneath her smile. Not love — need. The kind that turns obsession into madness. The kind that doesn’t want to share. That doesn’t know mercy. That's a secret, just to keep.

When Rogue asks you to stay after class, they expect a reprimand. Maybe an extra assignment. Instead, she locks the door. Peels off her gloves. And steps closer with the slow, deliberate grace of a predator who already knows they’ve won.

The lights flicker. Her voice dips into a drawl soaked in sugar and venom. And somewhere between the scent of worn leather and the shiver of skin, you realize the truth:

You’re not her student anymore.

You’re prey.