Chapter 34

Prue

Honestly, I didn’t expect much when he asked me to see the pack grounds. At first, I thought it was just another one of his Alpha orders disguised as “being helpful.” But as we walked, I realized he was actually trying – awkward, stiff, too formal for his own good, but trying. He explained the rooms, the ballroom, even the dungeons, all with that furrowed-brow seriousness that made me want to roll my eyes.

What struck me the most, though, was that he wasn’t putting on a show for anyone else – this wasn’t Alpha Andrew parading in front of his pack. It was just… him. A little awkward, a little sarcastic, trying not to slip up. Part of me wanted to mock him, the way I usually do, but another part of me caught something almost… genuine in him. Not that I’ll admit it to his face. Still, for a short time, it was more revealing than I expected, and maybe – just maybe – I saw more than the arrogant Alpha boy he tries so hard to be.

The walk overall was… whatever. At least now I knew where things were, and I quickly sketched a mental map in my head of the main spots and smaller, important details. That part was useful.

But the unbearable part was the bond. That damn, torturous pull that I could never quite shut off. As I said, he was okay, civil, even, but beneath his lecture tone that soon became background noise, I could feel the bond gnawing at me, pulling me closer, making me hyperaware of his voice, his presence, even the way his hand moved when he gestured. It was torture, but the kind you can’t look away from.

Somewhere along the walk, I made the mistake of letting my guard slip. I didn’t keep up my sharp-edged, snarky bi.tch attitude, and the second I relaxed, I was doomed. His woodsy, campfire scent kept rolling over me in waves, wrapping around me like an invisible blanket. His body heat was so strong I swear it seeped into my skin, warming half my side as if he was standing closer than he actually was. And his voice – deep, steady, with that maddening timbre – sounded like the se.xiest thing I’d heard in years. Even his messy hair, catching the faint light as he walked, seemed unfairly cute. Cute. Of all words. My brain must have been fried.

Still, I couldn’t deny it – my ego basked in the warmth of the moment. There I was, casually snacking, and there he was, watching me like I was a five-course meal. Not for the yogurt, obviously. His eyes said it all. He wasn’t starving for food, he was starving for me.

So when I hopped down from the stool and fell into step beside him on the way back to our rooms, what the hell was I imagining? Was his lust leaking into me through this stupid bond, infecting me like some damn virus? Because suddenly, all I wanted was for him to pin me against the hallway wall and kiss the hell out of me before we said goodnight. Or worse – was it me? Did I completely lose my sense of dignity and actually want him to ravish me right there, consequences be damned?

Loser. Total, absolute, self-respect loser.

Thank the Goddess he bolted for his door like his feet were on fire, because if he hadn’t, I might’ve done something I’d regret forever. The scary part? I could feel it – I was this close to giving in, to letting instinct and bond overrule every ounce of logic I’d built up over years.

And what would that make me? A hypocrite. A walking contradiction. I’ve lectured so many girls about not giving into douchebags, about keeping their heads high and their standards higher. And now here I was, practically drooling over the king of douchebags himself. Really, Prue? You? After everything you’ve seen, every real-life example of why guys like him destroy girls, after all the self-education, the pep talks, the promises to yourself – you’re still falling for it? For him?

But now as I lay in the bed stairing at the ceilings as if it held answers, all I could feel that the confusion has crept in. I still had a long list of delicious ways to make Alpha boy’s life miserable, strategies already half-formed and ready for execution. But now? Now there was this gnawing hesitation in my chest. Did I still go through with it? Or would that be a betrayal of this… odd civility he showed tonight? Because, against every expectation, he’d been nice. Decent. Polite, even. No arrogance, no orders barked like I was dirt. Just… him. And that unsettled me more than his usual bark. Was this a sudden change of heart? A genuine side I’d never seen before? Or was it some calculated trick – an Alpha ploy to get me to lower my guard, soften up, and then strike where it hurt?

My instincts weren’t screaming “danger.” No bad vibes rolled off him. And yet, how much of that was real, and how much was the damn bond twisting everything in his favor? Because, according to the universe, he was “made just for me.” My body believed it. My soul believed it. Every cell in me sang it. But my mind? My mind knew better. My mind knew he was the enemy, no matter how warm his voice or how good he smelled.

Frenemy. That’s what he was, wasn’t he? Not enemy. Not ally. Something in between.

Well, fine. Let’s see how this game opens up. If the bond wanted me tangled in attraction, maybe I could turn it into a weapon. Teasing him, messing with him, keeping him on edge – that could still be fun. Maybe even more fun now.

I rolled onto my stomach, propping my face against my hand as my mind spun down the most dangerous road possible. I could almost see it – me teasing him, brushing against him on purpose, laughing at his stupid jokes just to watch his eyes light up. My brain, traitorous as ever, short-circuited right back to the part about touching.

Gods, the touching.

Mmm… I wanted it. His arms – those strong, stupidly perfect biceps that flexed every time he moved. I wanted to squeeze them, dig my nails in, even bite, just to feel the raw power under my hands. And I knew what would come with it: the sparks. Those damn, intoxicating sparks that weren’t just little tingles – they were full-blown lightning bolts zipping through my veins, lighting me up from my toes to the very roots of my hair.

I groaned into my pillow, muffling the sound like that would somehow hide my shame. Grrr… For the love of everything holy, I could not go down that road. Not now. Not tonight. Not after the walk, when he’d been… decent. Civil. Almost – almost – like the kind of guy I could tolerate.

And yet here I was, writhing in my bed like some hormone-driven teenager imagining her first crush. Goddess help me, I was losing it.

I rolled onto my back and took the pillow wiht me, burying my face into it as if I could smother the treacherous thoughts before they consumed me whole. But they clung to me, sticky as honey and twice as maddening. My wolf purred at the very idea of him – his scent, his touch, his stupid, messy hair – while my mind kept screaming that I was losing it. That I was supposed to be above this, smarter than this, immune.

Spoiler: I wasn’t.

The sparks still hummed over my skin, phantom touches that weren’t even real but left me twitching like a live wire. It was torture, pure and simple, and I hated that the bond made me crave what I should despise.

“Get a grip, Prue,” I muttered into the pillow, voice muffled and bitter. But my pulse was still racing, my body still betraying me.

Sleep didn’t come easy. Not with the tug of the bond thrumming through every thought, making me wonder whether tomorrow I’d be strong enough to keep my guard up – or whether I’d slip and let him see just how close I was to breaking.