95

ALINA

I couldn’t tell if Alexander’s question was rhetorical, so I kept my mouth shut. I felt small, like prey caught in a predator’s gaze. But then his fingers squeezed into my waist firmly urging me to answer. My brain fumbled, like it had forgotten how to string thoughts together.

“I—I don’t know.” The first words that stumbled out sounded clumsy. “Claude said I needed security.”

“Claude, hmm.” His tone carried a weight I couldn’t quite decipher, but happiness wasn’t anywhere near it. If anything, there was a sharp undertone of displeasure, maybe even jealousy. I almost laughed at that.

To be jealous, he had to like me beyond someone he saw as his possession.

“So Claude tells you what to do now?”

My head snapped side to side before he even finished. My instincts screamed a warning. Possessiveness had always been Alexander’s sharpest edges. He shouldn’t even care what I did, yet here he was. If he hadn’t discovered I was going out to school, he wouldn’t even be sitting here with me now.

“He—” I caught myself before I made it worse. Telling him Claude had suggested anything would only fan the fire. I shifted quickly. “No, he doesn’t. He said you would approve.”

“And that was the only reason you agreed?” His question cut through me like a blade.

I didn’t hesitate this time. “Yes.” My voice was firmer, though my pulse throbbed in my throat.

The air around us felt dangerous, like standing on a rickety bridge that could collapse with the slightest wrong move.

Except, if the bridge fell, Alexander wouldn’t be the one plunging into the abyss, it would be me. And I wasn’t sure I’d climb out again.

My hand drifted instinctively toward my stomach, a protective reflex I’d grown used to. But at the last second, I pulled it back, gripping my knees instead. I couldn’t risk him noticing.

“Do you like the school?” His question came softer, almost tender. The shift in his tone startled me more than the anger ever could.

“I do.” My reply came quickly, and I found a little more confidence in it. “I like it.”

“You should have come to me.”

“You weren’t around.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. And once I started, I couldn’t seem to hold back. “I’m sorry if I did anything wrong. I didn’t know.”

Something in him eased then. His body relaxed against the seat, and in that moment, I felt him exhale. The shift made me sink back against him until my spine rested against his chest, his thighs steady beneath me, hardness pressing into my back. That was when I realized how suggestive our position was.

His hands slipped lower, drifting from my waist toward my stomach, and I froze. My breath caught. I wasn’t showing yet, but Alexander was a Lycan. Did they have… heightened senses for this kind of thing? No. That wasn’t a gift anyone mentioned. And yet, with my luck, it could very well become real right now.

His thumb traced slow, lazy circles against the bare skin beneath my shirt. Each pass sent a ripple  heat through me. a shivered slightly at the low tightening in my belly that I tried desperately to ignore. The urge to clench my thighs was overwhelming, but I didn’t dare. If I moved even slightly, he’d know. And worse, he’d know why.

By the time the car rolled to a stop at the school, my heart was hammering so hard I thought he’d hear it. Alexander, however, looked completely unbothered, like his body was here but his thoughts had drifted somewhere far away. I was relieved, at least it meant he’d accepted my answers for now.

Trust. That was the one card I had to keep playing. If I wanted to keep coming here, to hold on long enough to find an escape, he needed to believe me. I had to give him no reason to doubt.

The driver stopped, and Alexander gave my backside a sharp tap. I gasped, startled, before twisting to look at him. His expression was unreadable, but he gave me a small nod. “Go on. He’ll be here on time.”

Heat crept up my cheeks as I scrambled off his lap, collecting my bag, when had it even ended up on the seat? My hands fumbled as I adjusted the strap.

“You didn’t eat your breakfast,” he remarked. “Make sure you do. I like you better with some skin.”

The blush deepened, and I could only nod before slipping out of the car. The driver, as always, gave me a brief nod before circling back to his seat.

For a moment, I just stood there, staring at the building that had become oddly familiar over the past few days. Yet something felt off.

I’d never come here without a shadow trailing me, and the absence of that constant presence prickled at my skin. The urge to turn back, to run to the SUV before it drove off, clawed at me. But when I spun, the vehicle was already gone.

No choice now. I breathed out, whispering a pep talk under my breath. Just go inside. Act normal.

A sudden tap on my shoulder jolted me, panic sparking as I turned sharply. A boy stood there. He looked around my age, maybe a little older, his expression sheepish.

“Hi, sorry,” he rushed out, words tumbling over themselves. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I adjusted the strap of my bag higher, forcing composure I didn’t feel. “It’s fine.” My voice came strained.

He smiled then, wide enough for me to notice the neat perfection of his teeth. There was something boyish about him, blond curls falling into his forehead, a clean schoolboy kind of charm.

He seemed normal. And it unsettled me more than it should have.

“I noticed we’re in the same class.” His eyes darted away, then back again, nerves flashing before he steadied himself.

“Oh.” My reply was flat, awkward. I wanted to smack myself. How could I sound so lame? Conversation with normal people felt… foreign and strange. The voice in my head whispered that I wasn’t normal anymore.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you in class then.” He offered me a small wave, a bit tentative.

I nodded stiffly, returning it with a smile that felt half-forced. “Yeah.”

As he walked ahead, I muttered to myself, “You need to do better.” Then I followed.

In class, I spotted him again. He chose a seat near mine, just one row behind. When he caught my eye, he gave a small wave. I offered a shy smile this time.

I should have been focused on the lesson, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Alexander. He’d seemed calm when he let me go, but I knew better. He wasn’t finished with me, not by a long shot.

Still, when my gaze flickered back to the boy whose name I hadn’t even asked, I couldn’t shake the sense of familiarity. He didn’t wear the trappings of wealth or power, nothing that screamed luxury like the men in the pack. He looked ordinary. And ordinary felt strangely like home. Like the camp. Like the life I once knew.

Maybe, just maybe, he could be the key. The one connection I’d need to figure out a way out of here.

And when our eyes met again, I let myself smile for real this time.