Chapter Five – Stepbrother, Step Mate

“Run to whoever you want, Lyric,” Damon growled, his breath brushing the shell of my ear, hot and rough enough to ignite every nerve in me. “Your wolf will crawl back to me.”

The words seared into me, hotter than the mark he’d carved into my skin years ago. I hated him. I hated the fire curling low in my stomach, the way my pulse jumped at his nearness, the way my wolf whimpered instead of snarled. I shoved at his chest, hard, before he could see my trembling hands, and stormed out of the diner. I didn’t stop until the neon lights were far behind me, until my lungs burned from the cold night air, until I was almost convinced I wasn’t about to unravel. Almost.

The next morning, I tried to sneak out before anyone else woke, but my mom was already in the kitchen, humming softly as she stacked plates. She caught me at the doorway with a look that made me falter. Her eyes were softer than I’d seen in years, but beneath that glow was something sharper—pleading. Like she’d been practicing this talk all night.

“Lyric,” she began, smoothing the apron tied around her waist. Her hands wouldn’t stay still, twisting the fabric until it wrinkled. “I need you to behave. For me. For Raiden. For this family.”

The word family scraped down my throat like sandpaper. I folded my arms. “I am behaving.”

Her lips trembled into a smile, but her eyes said she didn’t believe me. “I mean it, baby. This is fragile. Raiden has given me and you something we haven’t had in a long time—safety, stability, a pack that respects us. Don’t risk that. Please.” Her voice dropped low. “You know what’s at stake if he thinks you and Damon can’t coexist. Wolves don’t forgive easily.”

Ah. There it was. She wasn’t just asking me to be nice. She was terrified. She’d clawed her way into something she thought was secure, and if Raiden even sniffed chaos between Damon and me, it could all go to shit. I swallowed hard, guilt pressing against the sharp edges of my chest. “I’m trying,” I whispered, though my voice cracked.

“Then try harder.” She reached for me, brushing my cheek the way she used to when I was little. “For me.”

For her. Always for her. I nodded, forcing the word out. “Fine.”

Relief softened her shoulders. She kissed my forehead, smiling bright and fragile all at once, and turned back to the stove. But inside me, Jinx stretched and yawned, her voice dripping with mischief. Oh, behave? Sweetheart, behaving has never been our problem. Not jumping Damon is.

I gritted my teeth. Wondering how I ended up with such a crazy wolf.

By afternoon, I was sick again. Feverish. Restless. My skin prickled, my wrist throbbed, and my chest ached like the bond was a wildfire crawling beneath my ribs. I paced my room like a caged animal. I pressed my palms to the cool walls, shoved open the window, begged the wind to cool me—but even the air carried his scent. Cedar. Smoke. Leather. My wolf whimpered at the comfort of it even as I cursed him for it.

I hated how he could do this to me without even touching me.

By nightfall, I was shaking, sweat clinging to my temples, my wolf clawing at the inside of my skin. She wanted out. She wanted him. I dug my nails into my palms hard enough to sting. “No,” I hissed to myself. “We’re not doing this. We’re not—”

A shadow cut across the crack beneath my door. A voice followed, low and rough, vibrating straight through my chest. “Lyric.”

My heart stopped.

The door eased open, and there he was. Damon. He didn’t knock, didn’t ask. He just stepped inside and shut the door behind him like it had been his right all along. The dim lamplight caught the hard line of his jaw, the storm glint in his eyes, the way he moved—calm, deliberate, a predator circling prey that didn’t have the strength to run.

My back hit the wall before I realized I’d moved. “What do you want?” The words came sharp, but my voice shook, betraying me.

He braced one hand against the wall beside my head, caging me in, his scent wrapping around me until my knees threatened to give. The bond thrummed so loud in my blood I swore he could hear it.

His eyes held mine, steady and merciless. “Finish it.”

My throat dried up. “What?”

“The bond.” His voice was gravel, dangerous and unyielding. “Finish what we started. What you begged for that night.”

The memory ripped through me before I could stop it. Moonlight tangled in my hair. His mouth on my skin. Teeth piercing flesh, sealing me to him in fire and fate. Except he never finished. He left me with half a bond, half a soul, half a chance at peace. And it had been eating me alive ever since.

I forced my chin up. “No.”

His other hand lifted, fingers brushing the line of my jaw. My wolf surged, leaning into it even as I pressed myself harder against the wall. His touch lit me up like dry tinder catching flame. I wanted to slap him. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to do both until the world cracked open.

“You’re lying again,” he murmured.

My eyes stung, and I jerked my head away. “You don’t get to demand anything. You left me. You disappeared. You ruined me.”

His jaw clenched. Pain flickered in his eyes, gone too fast for me to catch. He dropped his hand, but didn’t move back. He leaned in instead, so close his lips nearly grazed mine. My wolf howled inside me, desperate, claws raking my insides for release. My body shook with it, trembling from the war between rage and desire.

I almost let it happen. I almost let him close that last inch.

Then—

“Lyric?”

My mother’s voice cut the air like glass shattering. The door creaked wider, and she stepped in, arms full of folded towels, smiling like she’d walked into a picture-perfect moment. She froze for a heartbeat at the sight of Damon and me so close, my body pressed against the wall with him caging me in. Her face flickered—confusion, suspicion—but then she forced it into a smile. Relief, even.

“Oh, thank goddess you two are finally getting along.” Her voice trembled, just a little, but her eyes shone with hope. “I was so worried Raiden and I would have to sit you both down.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and impossible.

And I couldn’t breathe.