Adrian
Luca's waiting for me when I get back to the pack house, and this is not something I want to discuss. I am fucking pissed. The anger inside me right now will not dissolve until I get my wolf out for a hunt. I need the taste of blood, the hunger inside me is crawling, and it's all because of Jamie, and that fucking guy he kissed.
I shouldn't be this mad, but I also know I have no control over this feeling. He kissed someone else, and it felt like a stab to my fucking back.
Mine.
He's fucking mine.
My wolf shouts.
"What just happened?" he says the moment I walk in. On a normal day, he would never speak to me like this. I am his leader, and I don't answer to him, but I also need him to reel me back in; he can tell I'm in a moment of weakness.
I drop into the chair opposite him. "I handled it."
"Handled it?" Luca speaks. "You call that handling it? You had to fucking mind fuck half the crowd at that party, and dragged him like it was nothing. You realise if anyone saw..."
I shake my head. "No one did. I made sure of it."
He lets out a breath, then leans forward, lowering his voice. "You can't keep saying that, man. He's changing, and it's not clean. It's never clean in situations like this. The strength, the way his eyes shifted..." He shakes his head. "We can't let him stay out there. Not with the humans. He's a walking exposure risk."
Luca is right, and I know it, but what would he have me do? I know the feelings I carry for Jamie, and I can't have him in proximity without actually having him. I will lose my fucking mind.
I run the bridge of my nose, exhaustion slowly creeping in. "You want to drag him into the pack house and tell him what? That he's a wolf now? That he belongs to people he's never met?"
"I want him safe and our fucking kind safe, and you know you want that too," Luca snaps. "Before someone notices what he is, or before he hurts someone else."
The silence is uncomfortable. He's right, and we both know it. That's why he is here. To call me out on my bullshit. But the idea of keeping Jamie here, caged and confused, twists something inside me. I want him to belong wholeheartedly, but there's no way he will just agree to come here. There's no explaining all this without a fucking freak out. I know that.
Luca might be right, but I still make the decisions. Finally, I mutter. "He's not ready."
"Neither were you, the first time you shifted. We all had moments like this, but unlike him, we grew up in the pack. He will get used to it, and you know it."
I glance up at my best friend, but he doesn't flinch. "You said it yourself, Adrian. This isn't normal. We don't even know who bit him, or what kind of turn he is. he could lose control again, and next time you might not be there to stop it."
"I'm not putting him in the pack house like some prisoner."
"It's not about punishment," Luca says, softer now. He knows what this is to me. He's my best friend. He can read me like no one else. "It's about protection. For him. For us. The elders are already asking questions about the body we found last week. You really want to add a half-turned kid to the list?"
I grit my teeth. He's not wrong, but I can't do it. Not yet.
"I'll keep an eye on him," I say finally. "You post-watchers if you have to, but he stays on campus. If he's going to figure this out, he needs to do it his way."
Luca gives me a long, level look. "You're too close to this."
"Maybe."
He leans back, sighing. "You keep saying you've got this under control, but your wolf says otherwise. I can feel it from here, the way it reacts when you talk about him."
I push to my feet, ignoring the comment. "Just make sure the watchers don't get too close. He's already paranoid."
Luca rises too, blocking my path. "And if he loses control again?"
"Then I'll handle it."
He stares at me for a moment, then steps aside. "You're playing a dangerous game, Alpha. If the elders find out you're protecting a rogue turn..."
"He's not a rogue," I cut in, sharper than I meant to. "He's mine."
The words hang there, heavy, unintentional, but true in a way that makes my pulse spike.
Luca's eyes widen slightly, but he doesn't press. He nods once, slow and resigned. "Then you'd better figure out what he is before they do."
When he's gone, I sink back into the chair, elbows on my knees, and drag a hand over my face.
He's mine. The words won't leave.
And that's the problem.
Sleep doesn't come easily.
Luca's words resonate inside me, and I can't stop thinking about them. When I finally sleep. It's worse.
He's there. Bare skin.Heat.The soft sound he makes when I press my mouth to his neck, that quiet, startled breath that makes my pulse stutter. I can feel the warmth of his skin under my hands, the taste of him. It's too real, too detailed. His fingers curl in my shirt, and he whispers my name like a secret, like something holy and forbidden all at once.
When I wake, I'm breathless.
The sheets are damp, twisted around my legs. My chest is tight, heartbeat wild, every nerve still buzzing like it's waiting for him to touch me again. For a few seconds, I just stare at the ceiling, worried that I am losing my mind, hoping that it would fade. But it doesn't. The scent of him clings to me, that strange, warm electricity that shouldn't exist.
"Fuck."
I swing my legs out of bed and scrub a hand over my face. My skin feels hot, my body restless in a way I can't stand. This— whatever this is — it's wrong. It's reckless. He's not supposed to be anything more than a responsibility. A problem to solve.
Not someone I dream about.
Every wolf waits for their mate. It's a rite of passage. one that comes with excitement, hope and fuzzy feelings. But this is too complicated, this just seems like a situation that won't fucking end well.
I take off my clothes and head out to the woods, desperate to let my wolf out. Desperate for the freedom that comes with the release.
The air is cold enough to sting, cutting through the last of the dream's haze. Good. I want the burn. I need it. My wolf comes out, the howl of an Alpha. I start running fast, hard, until the world blurs around me and all I can hear is my breathing and the rhythmic thud of my paws on dirt.
But the faster I go, the more I see him. Jamie's face in the dark. The tremor in his hands when I touched him. The way he looked at me last night, like he knew me, somehow, deeper than he should.
I growl under my breath, pushing harder, muscles screaming, lungs raw.
I tell myself it's just the bond, some twisted side effect of what he's becoming. That the dreams aren't real. That he's not the reason my pulse still won't calm.
But deep down, I know I'm lying.
Because no matter how far I run, I can still feel him, like he's somewhere under my skin, humming in time with my heartbeat.
And that terrifies me more than anything else.