Chapter 5

Ella.

The moving truck arrived at eight in the morning on Saturday. I watched from my bedroom window as two men in gray uniforms started unloading boxes. My chest felt tight. This was really happening.

Dad was outside already, directing traffic like some kind of excited orchestra conductor. He kept pointing at different boxes and talking with his hands. I could hear his laughter even through the closed window.

Elena's car pulled up behind the truck. She got out first, smoothing down her shirt and smiling at my dad. Then Kyle stepped out of the passenger side.

The bond yanked hard in my chest. I stumbled backward from the window, pressing my hand against my ribs. He was here. In my driveway. About to move into my house.

I sat on my bed and tried to breathe normally. This was fine. Everything was fine. People's parents got remarried all the time. Families blended. This was completely normal.

Except for the part where I was supernaturally bonded to my future stepbrother and could feel his location like a compass in my chest.

Dad knocked on my door. "Ella? You going to come help?"

"In a minute."

"Elena made breakfast sandwiches. They're really good. Come eat."

I waited until his footsteps faded down the stairs. Then I forced myself to stand, put on jeans and a t-shirt, and went downstairs.

The kitchen smelled like eggs and cheese. Elena stood at the counter, wrapping sandwiches in foil. She looked up when I entered and her whole face brightened.

"Ella! Good morning. I made your favorite. Your dad said you like bacon and avocado."

I hadn't told Dad that was my favorite. Which meant he'd been paying attention without me realizing. The thought made my throat tight.

"Thanks," I managed.

"Kyle's bringing in boxes. He'll be hungry soon." Elena handed me a sandwich. "This is exciting, isn't it? All of us together."

I nodded because speaking felt impossible.

Outside, I could hear the movers shouting instructions. Furniture scraped against the truck bed. My quiet house was becoming loud and crowded and nothing would ever be the same.

I took my sandwich and escaped to the front porch.

Kyle was carrying a box up the walkway. His arms flexed under the weight, muscles defined under his black t-shirt. When he saw me, he froze mid-step.

The bond pulled tight between us. I felt his exhaustion, his stress, something else I couldn't name. His eyes flashed gold for just a second before he controlled it.

"Morning," he said quietly.

"Morning."

He walked past me into the house. I caught his scent, pine and something wild, and the bond hummed with want. I dug my fingernails into my palm to ground myself.

This was going to be impossible.

Dad appeared beside me, too cheerful for this early in the morning. "Great day, isn't it? New chapter for all of us."

"Yeah. Great."

"I know change is hard, sweetheart. But this is good change. You'll see." He squeezed my shoulder. "Elena's wonderful. And Kyle seems like a good kid. Quiet, but good."

If only he knew.

The morning dragged on. Movers carried furniture inside while Dad directed everything with way too much enthusiasm. Elena fluttered around, asking questions about where things should go. Kyle moved boxes in silence, mechanical and efficient.

I stayed out of the way mostly. Watched from corners. Felt the bond stretch and pull every time Kyle came near.

I tried to help once. Picked up a small box marked "kitchen items" and carried it inside. Elena thanked me three times. Dad beamed like I'd done something incredible.

Kyle passed me in the hallway. Our shoulders almost brushed. The bond flared so hot I nearly dropped the box.

He grabbed it before it could fall. Our hands touched on the cardboard. For three seconds we stood frozen, staring at each other.

"I've got it," he said roughly.

"Okay."

He took the box and disappeared into the kitchen. I leaned against the wall, heart racing.

Around noon, Elena called everyone to the kitchen. She'd ordered pizza, set out drinks, made it feel like some kind of celebration.

"To new beginnings," Dad said, raising his soda can.

Elena clinked her can against his. "To family."

Kyle and I didn't raise our drinks. Just sat there, carefully not looking at each other.

I picked at my pizza. Couldn't taste it. The bond made everything feel wrong. Kyle was too close, sitting diagonal from me at the table. I felt his presence like static electricity.

Dad told a story about the first apartment he and Mom rented. How the ceiling leaked and the landlord never fixed anything. Elena laughed in all the right places.

Kyle stayed silent. I watched him from the corner of my eye. He'd barely touched his food either.

After lunch, Elena pulled out a folder. "I made a schedule. For the bathroom and kitchen and everything. So we don't step on each other's toes."

She spread papers across the table. Color coded charts. Time slots. Chore assignments.

My stomach sank. Of course Elena had made schedules. She was that kind of organized, the kind who planned everything down to the minute.

"Ella, you and Kyle will share the upstairs bathroom. I hope that's okay. There's only the one up there."

My stomach dropped. Share a bathroom. With Kyle. The person I was supernaturally bonded to and absolutely could not be near without losing my mind.

"That's fine," I heard myself say.

Kyle's hands clenched into fists on the table. His jaw was so tight I thought his teeth might crack.

"Great!" Elena beamed, completely oblivious. "I figured mornings might be tricky, so I made a schedule. Ella, you can have six to seven. Kyle, seven to eight. That should give everyone plenty of time."

An hour apart. We'd be in there an hour apart. I'd smell his soap. See his toothbrush. Know he'd been there right before me.

The bond twisted in my chest, eager and impossible.

Dad nodded along. "Sounds perfect. Very organized, Elena."

"I just want everyone to be comfortable." She looked between Kyle and me. "You two okay with this?"

"Fine," Kyle said. His voice was flat.

"Great," I echoed.

We weren't fine. Nothing about this was fine.

Elena continued explaining the schedule. Dinner rotation. Laundry days. Quiet hours. She'd thought of everything. Made rules for a household that was supposed to feel like a family.

But you couldn't schedule around a mate bond. Couldn't plan for supernatural attraction that made every interaction feel like touching fire.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur of unpacking and arranging. Elena hung curtains in the living room. Sheer white ones that let in too much light. Dad assembled furniture, cursing quietly when he couldn't find the right screws.

Kyle carried his belongings upstairs to the room that used to be the guest room. The room right next to mine.

I heard him through the wall. Footsteps. Drawers opening and closing. The scrape of furniture being moved. He was rearranging everything, making the space his own.

We shared a wall now. Just drywall and paint between us.

I tried to focus on my own room. Cleaned my desk. Reorganized my bookshelf. Anything to avoid thinking about Kyle on the other side of that wall.

But the bond wouldn't let me forget. It pulled constantly toward him. Made me aware of every sound he made.