Chapter 2

Jake’s POV

It was the first day of the semester, I walked into the lecture hall with my bag slung over my shoulder. The place smelt like coffee, and a hint of something different in the air. It made my stomach twist.

The students looked up, some with that usual bored look, a few pretending to care. I forced myself to focus, to stay professional, but the moment my eyes landed on him, the rest of the room blurred out.

It was Aiden.

He was right there, on the second row. His hoodie was pulled up, his arms were crossed over his chest like he was building a wall around himself. His eyes met mine, just for a second.

I forgot everything I was supposed to say.

"I’m Professor Stone," I said, clearing my throat. "I'll be teaching Pack History and Societal Structures this semester."

The second Aiden's gaze landed on me, his jaw tightened. Then he let out a small sound, almost like a laugh, but it wasn’t amused.

It was sharp and bitter. He turned his head away without a word or a chance for me to look into his eyes some more.

It felt like there was a lump in my throat. I tried to keep going, but the words caught somewhere in the back of my throat. I glanced at my notes, but they looked like they were written in a different language.

I stuttered through half the lecture. Dates, events, famous treaties... I couldn't keep them straight. Every time I looked up, I saw him sitting there, stiff, not looking at me. Acting like my presence was irritating to him.

The students exchanged glances. Some whispered.

Someone coughed loudly, like they were covering a laugh.

I felt too embarrassed that my first day went this way so I wrapped up way before the time was up.

I told them we would cover more next class and let them go early.

They didn’t wait a second. They shut down their PC and I could hear bags zipping. The room emptied fast, faster than expected.

Aiden stood up, grabbed his backpack, and brushed past me like I was invisible. I caught the faint scent of him as he passed, and it just about knocked the air out of me.

I just stood there for a while after everyone left.

The room felt too big, too quiet. I leaned against the desk and rubbed the back of my neck.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. I thought maybe time would have dulled the anger between us. I thought maybe he would at least look at me like I was human.

I tried to catch up to Aiden as he pushed through the crowd outside. "Aiden, wait," I called out, my voice tight.

But he didn’t stop. He didn’t even glance at me.

I held his sleeve lightly, but he jerked his arm away before I could say another word. "Leave me alone, Mr Jake." he muttered, his voice low but I heard the anger in it.

I stood there for a second, just watching him disappear into the parking lot. There was nothing I could do now. There was nothing he wanted from me anymore.

I took a deep breath, picked up my things and made my way to my car. I flung everything inside it, shrugged and slipped into the driver's seat. I drove home on autopilot, my hands gripped the steering wheel like it was the cause of my problem.

The second I walked through the door, I went straight for the cabinet. I pulled out a bottle without thinking. I didn’t even bother with a glass. Just drank.

The burn in my throat felt good. Real good. The house felt too big, too empty. Everything I had tried to bury was clawing its way back up.

And all I could do was drink until it blurred around the edges. The bottle didn't leave my hand as I slumped into the couch. And for the first time in years, I didn’t fight the memories when they came.

It’s actually funny thinking about it now. I hadn't thought about it in years. Years ago, I was the Alpha of the Northern Territories.

Aiden entered our lives—wide-eyed, stubborn, too curious for his own good. At first, I thought he reminded me of someone I lost a long time ago.

But one night, when his scent hit me in passing, everything changed. My wolf whispered the truth I didn’t want to hear, "He’s yours."

I fought it. He was still a kid, barely older than my son. I didn’t understand why that happened all of a sudden and why my wolf chose a teenager.

I had no right whatsoever to claim him so I thought setting up his mate reading and him finding a female mate will do him good.

But everything changed when he confessed his feelings to me, "I like you. I want to be more than just friends,"

I panicked when he said that so I told him to prepare for his mate reading in a cold and detached manner. Like what he said didn’t mean anything.

I never let him talk about it again.

Taylor had always been there, easy and available.

That night, I was drowning in liquor and guilt when Aiden's older brother, Taylor reached in. He leaned in, I let it happen. And Aiden saw exactly what I wanted him to see. I felt it would set him straight but I had no idea it'd make him leave the pack entirely.

When I heard he left town, I told myself it was for the best. But my wolf has been pacing ever since.

I faded politics, alliances, blood debts. Name them all. It weighed me down until I was nothing but a werewolf that functioned on instinct and obligation.

Years later, my brother challenged me for Alpha and I let him win. I didn’t care anymore. He could take up the role for all I care.

I took my son, Brute, left it all behind, and settled into human life. Teaching gave me something to do. Something to feel useful again.

“Dad, guess who I saw today?” Brute’s voice broke the silence as he walked through the door as he kicked his shoes off, dropping his backpack by the couch like he always did.

I didn’t even look up from where I was slouched at the kitchen table, nursing a half-finished bottle of bourbon.

“Not interested, Brute.” I muttered, pushing up from the chair. My legs felt like cinder blocks, it was heavy as I staggered toward the hallway.

Brute let out a short laugh, the kind that usually meant he thought I was being dramatic. Maybe I was. I didn’t care.

I made it to my room and slammed the door harder than necessary, leaning my forehead against it for a second before stumbling toward the bed. My head spun so much, but not from the alcohol.

It was him. Aiden.

The way his scent had wrapped around me earlier like a noose. The way my wolf clawed and howled inside my chest, refusing to settle down. I hated it. Hated him. Hated myself more.

It was supposed to be over. Done and buried.

Yet, the moment our eyes met today, every wall I’d spent years building crumbled like it had been made of sand. My wolf didn’t understand the reason. He didn’t care about the years that had passed or the mistakes I made.

He just knew one thing, “He’s ours.”

I slammed the pillow over my head, wishing I could smother the thought the same way.

But the pull had already started, and deep down, I didn't know how to stop it.