Chapter 5

Agatha’s POV

Without warning, Rhunar yanked me by the arm, dragging me away from Fenrik. His grip wasn’t painful, but it was firm—possessive. He pulled me into a quiet corner of the hallway, away from the other students.

His eyes burned into mine.

“What are you doing with Fenrik?” he asked, his voice low and tense.

I blinked, stunned by his sudden intensity. His jaw was clenched so tightly I thought he might snap. His body trembled with restraint, like he was seconds away from exploding.

Was it jealousy? Or just more brotherly hatred?

“He just gave me a ride to school,” I replied, trying to sound casual. “That’s it.”

Rhunar didn’t seem convinced. His shoulders were still tense, his hands balled into fists by his side.

“I don’t like the way he touched you.”

I scoffed, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear. “What is wrong with him giving me a ride? I was late. I needed help, and he offered.”

“You could’ve asked anyone else,” he snapped.

“And I didn’t,” I said flatly. “Rhunar, I have to go. I’m already late for class. You know how Professor Dale gets—he practically lives to humiliate me. If I don’t show up today, I’ll be the punchline of his next lecture.”

Rhunar’s eyes flared with something wild—frustration, maybe. He took a step closer, and I could feel the heat radiating off him.

“To hell with class,” he muttered. “I don’t want to see you near Fenrik again.”

“Excuse me?” My brows shot up. “You don’t get to tell me who I can or can’t be around.”

He didn’t back down. “I’m warning you. He’s not just trouble—he’s dangerous. He’s not like the rest of us.”

My chest tightened.

“And you are?” I said, raising my chin defiantly. “You rejected me, remember? You made it clear I’m nothing to you. So tell me, Rhunar, why does it matter if someone else touches me?”

He flinched like I’d slapped him. For a moment, he was silent, and I saw something flicker in his eyes. Regret? Guilt?

“Look,” he said, voice quieter now. “You can be with whoever you want… just not him. Please, Agatha. Not him.”

“Why?” I demanded. “Because you said so? Because you’re my Alpha?”

“No,” he said firmly. “Because I’m your best friend.”

The words stung more than I expected.

He looked at me for another second, like he was waiting for something—maybe for me to say I understood. Maybe for me to tell him I still needed him. But I stayed quiet.

Without another word, he turned and walked away, his shoulders stiff with unspoken tension.

I stood there, my books clutched tightly to my chest.

Best friend.

Is that what we were now?

Everyone in the pack house seemed to hate Fenrik. They called him reckless, unpredictable, dangerous. But no one ever said why. No one ever told the full story.

And yet... I couldn’t stop thinking about the way he smiled at me. The way he looked at me like I mattered.

Maybe I was crazy. Maybe I was playing a dangerous game.

But at least Fenrik didn’t pretend.

Rhunar said he was protecting me.

But from who?

.......

Rhunar's POV

I had everything under control… until he came back.

Fenrik.

The brother who defied every rule, broke every law of our pack, and was banished for it. Father made it clear—he was never to return. But here he is, walking around like the prodigal son, as if he belongs. As if he hadn’t left a trail of chaos behind him.

I rejected Agatha, yes. But she hasn't rejected me. That bond still lingers. It ties her to me. And in this land, that means she's still mine.

Everything here is mine. The Alpha title. The pack. The legacy.

Agatha.

If only she wasn’t an ordinary omega—so low-ranked, so fragile. While other omegas train and grow stronger, Agatha was born with a low rank, with little wolf power. And with Fenrik back, threatening to reclaim the title he lost, I can’t afford a weakness. I can’t afford her.

Not now.

Later that evening, we arrived at Lya’s birthday celebration. She turned twenty-one today, and as her boyfriend, it was expected of me to attend. I kept Agatha close by my side the moment we stepped in. Fenrik was already there—leaning casually against the bar like he owned the place. I ignored him, jaw tight, refusing to let my gaze linger on the smug look he shot in our direction.

I couldn’t take chances. Not with Agatha. Not when he was watching her the way he used to look at things he wanted—and always got.

Lya came bouncing up to me, radiant in a red satin dress. She tugged my hand.

“Come on, birthday dance,” she giggled, pulling me toward the dance floor.

I hesitated. My eyes flicked to Agatha again, but she was already walking away from me.

I let Lya lead.

She wrapped her arms around my neck as we danced. I moved with her automatically, my mind elsewhere.

“How long are you going to keep staring at her, baby?” she whispered, forcing my chin down to meet her gaze. Her voice was sweet, but the edge in it was sharp.

She pressed her lips to mine before I could respond.

I kissed her back—because I had to. Because my title was at stake. Because everything depended on keeping this illusion alive.

But my wolf growled inside me. He hated it.

So did I.

“I only see you, Lya,” I lied smoothly. “Happy birthday, baby.”

I kissed her again, just long enough to sell the act. Then I turned, eyes scanning the crowd for Agatha.

She wasn’t where I left her.

My pulse quickened.

And then I saw her pressed against Fenrik, his hand tangled in her hair, her lips locked with his.

She was kissing Fenrik.