LOGINLola’s POV
Flint’s face was hard to read as he walked toward me, but I still held on to a small hope, that maybe he’d say something, maybe even get jealous about what happened with Morgan.
But he didn’t.
He reached for Amy’s hand and walked right past me without saying a word.
I froze.
The hallway was full of people, noise, movement, but at that moment, everything felt quiet. I watched their hands linked together and I felt hurt.
I quickly turned and walked in the opposite direction.
He had a girlfriend. I had to stop expecting anything else.
The last class of the day was a combined session, which meant students from different levels were grouped together.
Evelyn wasn’t there, so I walked in alone.
My eyes scanned the classroom and landed on the two seats by the back window. Flint and Amy were already there.
I didn’t look at them for long. Just enough to know where not to sit.
Last night was still fresh in my mind with Amy kissing Flint on the forehead. His intimacy with Amy was enough for me to avoid him.
I found an empty seat in the row behind them and quietly sat down.
I kept my eyes on the front of the room and did my best not to glance forward.
But I still noticed things.
Flint hadn’t said a word to Amy since I entered. I gave in once and glanced at him.
He looked gloomy, not paying attention to the teacher or to Amy.
I let my gaze drift to the side of his face, the way his jaw clenched slightly, how his hand rested on the desk.
I hated how much I noticed.
Flint had been part of my life for ten years. I’d fallen for him slowly, quietly, over time. Every small thing added up.
The way he always remembered how I liked my tea, the way he once shielded me from a rainstorm with his jacket, the calm in his voice whenever things got hard.
But then he said it. That night at dinner.
“She’s not my type.”
That one sentence hit harder than I expected.
Since then, I started avoiding him. Not in a dramatic way, just enough to protect myself. I didn’t sit near him, didn’t talk unless I had to.
I was trying to move on.
Meanwhile, Morgan was everywhere.
Girls laughed louder when he walked by, and he never seemed to be with the same one twice. He’d smirk, flirt, walk away like none of it mattered.
I didn’t understand why he’d suddenly started paying attention to me.
But what confused me more was Flint.
Lately, every time I was near him, he acted strange.
Sometimes he went quiet. Other times he looked like he was going to say something but didn’t.
I didn’t know what it meant.
And maybe I didn’t want to know anymore.
After class, I scrolled through my phone and saw a calendar reminder: my birthday was tomorrow. Eighteen. In our pack, that was the age when most people found their mates.
I tried not to get my hopes up, but it was hard not to wonder if this year would change everything. What if I didn’t feel any bond? Or worse, what if I already had, only Flint didn’t feel it back?
I kept thinking about it as I walked home alone, wishing that somehow, tomorrow would finally give me an answer, and maybe, just maybe, that answer would be Flint.
After school, I walked across the courtyard with my thesis tucked tightly under my arm. My hands were a little sweaty, even though the paper was already done.
I had read it twice, fixed the formatting, and even checked for typos this morning. I wanted it to be perfect.
The sun had started to dip, casting long shadows on the empty lawn. A few students were packing up, but most had already left.
The staff building felt unusually quiet, with only a faint echo from my footsteps.
I took the side hallway that led to the staff offices. It was quiet. Most students didn’t come this way after hours.
As I got closer, I heard voices coming from around the corner.
One of them was Amy’s.
I slowed down, steps careful, not because I wanted to eavesdrop, but because her voice sounded sharp.
“…I still think you only want to kiss your little adoptive sister," she said.
I stopped.
My chest tightened.
It took a second to process what I’d heard. The words didn’t feel real at first.
There was a long pause. I couldn’t hear Flint’s reply. His voice was low, muffled.
But that one sentence from Amy kept echoing in my head.
He wants to kiss his adoptive sister
Was she talking about me? Was she joking?
I didn’t want to assume but she’d said it so clearly.
My throat felt dry. My heart beat a little faster, and not in a good way.
I took a few quiet steps forward, my breath held tight in my throat.
Then I saw them.
Amy stood close to him, her fingers lightly resting on his chest. Her face was tilted up.
Flint didn’t move. He just stood there, completely still.
I waited for him to pull back, even a little. I thought he would turn his head or step away.
But he didn’t.
He let her stay close.
Then Amy leaned in and kissed him.
It wasn’t just a quick kiss. It lasted longer than it should have.
I stood there, unable to move. My chest felt tight, and my arms felt heavy.
The folder I was holding suddenly felt like it weighed a ton.
My fingers slipped without meaning to.
And the thesis I was holding fell from my hands.
Third-Person PerspectiveMorgan had been coming to the pack territory nearly every other day for two weeks, always with a legitimate excuse—paperwork, meetings, site inspections that demanded Lola’s direct involvement. No one questioned it; the mineral project was critical, and frequent coordination between the two leads was only logical.But Cara saw what others missed.She noticed how Morgan’s posture shifted the moment Lola entered a room. How his gaze tracked her every move, even when he was supposedly buried in documents. How he unconsciously positioned himself between her and the doors, as if shielding her before a threat even existed.She noticed Lola’s reactions, too—the careful distance she kept, the way she never fully turned her back on him, the faint tremor in her hands when he stood too close. These were not two people indifferent to one another.Cara had agreed to help Morgan with his plan at the upcoming gathering. But first, she needed proof: exactly how far he would g
Morgan's POVThe next day, Lola arrived at the drilling site early. She was wearing practical clothes. Boots. Jacket. Hair tied back. Ready to work.I met her at the main tent."Good morning," I said."Morning," she said. She didn't quite meet my eyes.We spent the day walking the site. Checking equipment. Talking to crew members. Reviewing safety protocols. All normal work.But there were moments.Moments when I stood close to her to look at the same diagram, and she went very still. Moments when our hands both reached for the same tool, and she pulled back like she'd been burned. Moments when I caught her looking at me, and she turned away quickly.By the third day, something had shifted.We were in the equipment tent reviewing inventory when she actually laughed at something I said. A real laugh. Not polite... Real.I stopped what I was doing and looked at her."What?" she said."Nothing," I said. "I just haven't heard you laugh in a long time."Her smile faded slightly."We should
Morgan's POVI sat in Cara's office the next morning. My head pounded with the memory of last night. The kiss. The way Lola had shoved me away after kissing me back. The way her eyes betrayed a desperate want battling a bitter self-hatred.Cara sat across from me, hands folded neatly on the desk. She had summoned me. We need to talk. I came because her judgment was one of the few things I still trusted.I stood and paced to the window. Outside, soldiers ran drills in the training yard, a normal day. The world kept spinning as if nothing had shattered."I don't understand her," I said, my voice tight. "I'm an Alpha now. I have power. Resources. Everything I lacked three years ago when she walked away. I can give her anything she wants. A pack. A title. Absolute security. Everything Flint offers and more." I turned back to face Cara. "So why does she still choose him? What does he have that I don't?"Cara watched me, her expression unreadable. "You're asking the wrong question.""Then
Lola's POVHis lips touched mine. It was just a brush at first. Soft. Testing. But the moment his skin met mine, a heavy heat flooded my chest. I wanted him. I couldn't lie to myself anymore. The pull was too strong. My hands moved up to his chest, gripping his shirt. He groaned slightly, shifting closer, parting my lips with his.The taste of him sent my mind backwards. Suddenly, I wasn't in this house. I wasn't bruised and battered from an ambush. I was in the back in his car three years ago. I remembered his hands pulling me into his lap, his mouth hot and desperate against my neck. I remembered the heavy weight of his body pressing me into the leather seats. The way he made me feel like the only person in the world. The raw, unfiltered need between us. It was a memory etched into my bones. My body recognised him instantly. It hummed, begging me to let go. To pull him down onto the bed, to forget the years of pain, and just let him consume me. For a few seconds, I gave in. I kis
Morgan's POVShe woke up slowly.Her eyelids fluttered first. Her fingers twitched against the blanket. Her eyes opened, staring at the ceiling for a moment before turning to find me.I sat in the chair beside the bed. I had been there for three hours. Monitoring her breathing. Making sure she stayed asleep. Making sure she was safe.She stared at me without speaking, probably piecing together where she was and what had happened."You're awake," I said.She nodded slightly, then tried to sit up. She winced, clapping a hand to her side."Don't move too fast. You're hurt.""How hurt?" Her voice was rough. Dry."Bruised ribs. A cut on your arm. Scraped hands and knees. Nothing broken." I moved to the edge of the bed. "You were lucky.""Lucky," she repeated, the word sour in her mouth."They could have done worse. They planned to. I got there first."She examined herself. Clean clothes. Not hers. Mine. An oversized shirt and soft pants. Her own clothes had been torn and ruined."Did you"
Lola's POVTransporting the mineral samples to the main facility for final testing was routine. I had done it twice before without problems.The samples weren't valuable for money, but they would determine whether the project moved forward and whether the partnership between Morgan's pack and mine would survive or fall apart.I volunteered to escort them. Flint offered guards, but I declined. It was a thirty-minute drive on a familiar route. The sample cases were locked in the back. The driver was reliable. It should have been simple.We left just after noon. The road was clear. I sat in the back with the cases, trees blurring past the window. The driver remained quiet, keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead.Fifteen minutes in, a black, unmarked car appeared in the rearview mirror. It stayed exactly three car lengths back. Not passing, not retreating. Just looming.I leaned forward. "The car behind us."The driver checked his mirror. "Yes. I've been watching it.""How long?""Since we







