Cathleen rose from the tangled sheets, a frown creasing her forehead. Her feet found the plush carpet as she made for the door.

"Where are you going?" Xavier's voice, deep and commanding, anchored her to a halt.

"To my room, I need to freshen up," she replied without turning, her tone clipped and resolute.

"This is your room; this is where you belong. I've moved all your things to this room." The declaration was possessive, brooking no argument.

Cathleen spun around, the incredulity written stark across her features. "What?" She spat the word out like a curse. "What right do you have to move all my belongings to this room?"...