Chapter 32

Andrew

I keep reminding myself that I have a life – a damn good, interesting life without her. Training, missions, my pack, my freedom, even school's life. All of it should be enough. She’s nothing. She shouldn’t take up space in my head. She shouldn’t matter. And yet… she pisses me off in ways no one else ever has, and the anger doesn’t fade – it just loops in my mind on repeat, like a stupid song you hate but can’t stop humming because the chorus is burned into your skull.

Every smirk, every eye-roll, every little twitch of her face plays over and over until it’s impossible to think about anything else. She’s like static on the radio, buzzing through every channel no matter how hard I try to tune it out. And the worst part? The more I try to shove her out of my thoughts, the harder they claw back in, like she’s carved herself into the wiring of my brain.

The other day she slid into the car like she owned the damn place, tossed me one of those smug looks, and ignored me for the rest of the ride. I should’ve been relieved – silence was my safe space with her. But of course, as my Beta and Delta was in the backseat, she wasted no time worming her way with them, chatting and laughing as if they were old friends. At first, I told myself I didn’t care. Let her talk. Let her laugh. Hell, let her bat her lashes if she wanted – none of it mattered.

But today she planted her se.xy – no, disgusting – butt, still wrapped in that annoyingly short miniskirt, right between my men, as if they were besties. The chattering pissed me off. She hasn't spoken five sentences with me, but she has plenty to share with them?

I tried to ignore them as long as my self-control allowed me. But every giggle, every time her hand brushed John’s arm or Greg’s shoulder, it burned under my skin like acid. My grip on the steering wheel tightened until my knuckles were white. Again.

And then she leaned closer, her hair brushing against John’s arm, her perfume flooding the car, and something inside me snapped.

I slammed the brakes and barked at Greg to move up front, my tone harsher than I meant. The car went silent for a beat, John lifted an eyebrow in a questioning manner, as if he knew more than I wanted him to, Greg grumbled under his breath but slid over anyway.

Prue didn’t even argue. She just arched a brow, lips twitching like she knew exactly what button she’d pushed, then turned her head to the window as if the scenery was suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world. Extremely annoying, infuriating even.

How could the one person who was supposed to cherish me – adore me from head to toe, worship the ground I walk on, complete me in ways no one else ever could – has made it her life’s mission to piss me off instead? Every word out of her mouth, every sigh, every sarcastic flick of her tongue, even the smallest micromovement of her face feels designed to irritate me, to crawl under my skin. It’s like she’s got a PhD in driving me insane, specializing in making me wonder whether this so-called bond is the cruelest joke the Goddess ever played on me. 

My wolf growled low inside me, demanding I stake my claim, demanding I drag her closer. Instead, I shoved my hand onto her thigh – pushed her toward the door, like I was putting distance between her and my Beta. That’s what I told myself. That’s the excuse.

But the truth? The second my skin touched hers, it was like grabbing a live wire. Sparks shot through me, burning straight to my chest, my stomach, lower. Her skin hummed under my palm, calling me, pulling me in like I was drowning and she was air.

I pulled away fast, hand snapping back to the gearshift like nothing had happened. Except everything had. She was staring at my hand like it had offended her. And I… I couldn’t breathe.

Her scent swirled around me, sweeter than before, thicker. The bond evolving, twisting tighter every damn day. Nobody ever warned me it would feel like this, bond growing like an ivy – slow at first, creeping unnoticed, until it coils around everything and squeezes tight.

They resumed the conversation. About me, but I ignored them both, eyes locked on the road. My jaw was tight, my wolf restless. All I could think was how close she was, how warm she felt under my hand, how badly I wanted to both kiss her and throw her out of the car. This was torture. And it was only the beginning.

The door slammed behind her, leaving a faint trace of her scent in the car that clung to my lungs like smoke I couldn’t cough out. I gripped the wheel tighter, trying to ground myself, but the silence inside the SUV felt suffocating.

My eyes trailed after her – her back, the sway of her a.ss – without my consent may I add. I couldn’t help it, no matter how much I wanted to.

John cleared his throat softly in the back seat.

“You know… you could try treating her a little nicer.”

I didn’t bother to look at him. My jaw ticked, eyes pinned to the empty lawn ahead.

Greg huffed, arms crossed as he slumped into the seat with a nod, clearly agreeing with John.

“Yeah, man. It wouldn’t kill you. Actually, it’d probably help. Because right now, you’re making it hell for all of us.”

My eyes flicked to the sides and then at the rearview mirror, sharp as a blade.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

John leaned forward between the seats, his gaze calm but probing.

“It means maybe stop snapping at her for breathing. Take her out, go on a date. Stop acting like she’s the enemy.”

A bitter laugh ripped from my chest.

“A date? Why the fu.ck would I do that?”

“Because,” John said evenly, “she’s actually a cool girl.”

I snapped my head around, disbelief and fury mixing hot in my chest.

“No, she’s not. She’s a disgusting lone wolf, and you both know it.”

Greg sat up straighter, frowning deeply.

“Damn, Drew… that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you so hateful toward someone for literaly nothing. It's not her fault that she happened to be a lone wolf, she is not responsible for the things that other lone wolf did to your fams!” I growled low because I disagree.

“You’ve always been the sweetest among us, the calm one. The guy who thinks before he acts. What’s going on with you?”

John ask with disapointment while my nails bit into the leather of the steering wheel.

“What’s going on with me? Have either of you been paying attention? Or did I miss the memo that you’ve been swapped for your clueless twins? You’ve seen how she treats me! How she looks at me like I’m dirt under her shoe! She’s always disgusted, always angry – always annoying me on purpose…”

My voice cracked, and I cut myself off, swallowing the burn in my throat.

Silence stretched, heavy and uncomfortable.

Then John spoke again, softer this time, but with steel beneath it.

“Really, dude? Where does that anger come from?”

My head jerked toward him.

“What the hell do you mean by that?”

So now he thinks he’s a psychologist? His eyes locked with mine, unflinching.

“It comes from hurt. She’s hurting, you idiot.”

A growl rumbled low in my chest, instinct flashing hot. Totally playing a shrink. What’s next? He gonna charge me by the hour for this little therapy session?

“Don’t call me that.” I barked instead.

“But you are!” John’s voice cracked, raw with desperation. “For the first time since we were toddlers running around in the same damn diapers, I’m seeing you act like a moron. Greg and I – we’ve always been the mischievous duo, the troublemakers. You were the voice of reason, the balance. And now? Now you’re throwing that all away. You’re rejecting your mate every chance you get while still being so obviously torn up by the bond that you can’t even handle us joking with her without losing it.”

Greg leaned forward now too, his voice quieter but no less sharp.

“He’s right, Drew. You’re jealous, man. And it’s eating you alive.”

My teeth ground together. The word jealous made my wolf snarl in my chest, claws scraping to the surface.

John shook his head, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Dude, just take her on a date. Buy her flowers, bring her something stupid – hell, even chocolates. Whatever. You might be surprised how good it feels to stop this constant war between you two. Because right now? You’re both drowning in this tension, and it’s thicker than yeast. You don’t want to keep living like this. None of us do.”

The car fell silent again, except for the ticking of the cooling engine.

And for the first time, I had no smart retort. Just the echo of their words slamming into the walls I’d built around myself.