Chapter Four – The Silent War

I had a feeling this was only the beginning, and I was right.

The next day , the Calder house smelled like coffee, bacon, and tension. My mom floated around the kitchen in a silk robe, humming like the world had finally bent in her favor. Her cheeks were still pink, her eyes sparkling, her every movement carrying a softness I hadn’t seen in years. Happiness looked good on her—it made her seem younger, lighter. She moved between stove and table with the kind of quiet joy you couldn’t fake.

At the head of the long wooden table sat Raiden. My new stepfather. Alpha. Outlaw. He filled the space with his sheer presence, shoulders broad enough to block out light, tattoos slipping from under rolled sleeves, a leather band on his wrist catching the morning sun. A stack of invoices sat in front of him, his dark gaze scanning them as if the future of the pack depended on the words inked across those pages. He looked less like a man who had just married and more like a man constructing an empire brick by brick, even at his breakfast table.

He didn’t look up when I walked in, but his gravel-deep voice carried easily across the room. “Lyric. Sit.”

My stomach tightened as though invisible strings pulled me toward the empty chair beside him. I sat, folding my hands together so tightly my knuckles whitened, pretending I didn’t feel the weight of his authority settling over me.

When Raiden finally lifted his eyes, they flicked from me to my mom before settling firmly back on me. “I know this union between your mother and me happened fast. Too fast, maybe.” His jaw ticked with the admission, but there was no apology in his tone. “But wolves know when it’s right. I care about her. I’ll take care of her.”

The warmth in my mom’s smile was enough to light an entire room. She glowed as if those words were all she had ever wanted to hear. I forced my lips into the shape of a smile too, but it sat heavy in my chest, a stone I couldn’t swallow.

Raiden cleared his throat and gestured toward the stairs. “That brings me to another matter. My son.”

The thud of boots hit the wood before I could even turn, each step a deliberate sound that rattled something low in my chest. Damon came down slowly, like gravity bent to his pace, casual in a black shirt that hugged his shoulders and a chain that glinted at his throat. Grease still marked his knuckles from the garage, like he’d been working before most of us had even woken. His storm-gray eyes didn’t look at me, but the bond did its cruel job anyway, searing through my wrist, flaring hot as if someone had poured molten metal beneath my skin.

Ohhh, daddy’s home, Jinx purred in my head, her voice dripping with mischief. And he looks edible. Let’s climb him like a tree, Lyric.

Slut. I clenched my fists against my lap, trying to hold myself together.

Damon stopped at the bottom of the stairs, eyes flicking toward Raiden first. The air shifted, a taut wire humming between father and son. They stood on opposite sides of the same battlefield—two men bound by blood but sharpened into weapons against each other.

“Damon,” Raiden said, tone stiff with something that sounded more like pride forced through gritted teeth than affection. “This is Lyric. Your new step-sister.”

The word cut through me like a blade. Step-sister. The bond coiled tighter, mocking the title, reminding me that fate didn’t care about familiar labels.

Damon’s gaze finally flicked to mine. For the briefest second, something dangerous lit his eyes—raw, sharp, hungry. Then it vanished, masked by the faintest twitch of his mouth, a smirk carved with the kind of arrogance that only made my chest ache harder. He slid into the seat across from me, his voice low, deliberate, each syllable caressing and cutting at the same time. “Step-sister.”

My throat worked around words that wouldn’t come.

Raiden either didn’t notice or didn’t care about the undercurrent slicing through the room. He set down his mug, the scrape of ceramic against wood loud in the silence. “You’re older, Damon. Take care of your little step-sister. And make sure you do a better job than you did with your brother.”

The line burst between them.

Damon’s jaw tightened, the muscle ticking like a live wire. The tension stretched so taut it felt like the house itself was holding its breath. Then, like a man refusing to bleed in public, Damon gave a lazy shrug, the kind that carried centuries of wounds beneath its surface. “Sure,” he said softly, eyes still locked on mine. “I’ll take care of her.”

The words settled in my skin like smoke, thick and choking, their weight both promise and threat. My wolf shivered, caught between a growl and a whine.

Raiden shoved the stack of invoices across the table toward him. “You’re coming to the shop today. Full shift. Bikes come in, you fix them. Orders come in, you fill them. You’ll learn the business whether you like it or not.”

Damon’s mouth curled, humorless, his eyes flat steel. “Sure. Whatever you say, Alpha.”

Raiden didn’t rise to the bait. “Good. We leave in twenty.” He stood, leaned down to kiss my mother’s temple, and strode out of the room with the sound of finality echoing in his steps.

The silence that followed pressed heavy on my shoulders. My mom tried to smile at me, hopeful and glowing, but Damon’s gaze burned into me from across the table as he reached for the coffee pot. His voice came light, edged in mockery, but laced with something darker. “Guess we’re family now.”

Guess that makes you the forbidden snack at the family picnic, Jinx drawled, stretching lazily inside my head. And I’m starving.

I shoved her down, stood abruptly, and walked out without a word, the pulse of the bond still tearing through me.

The days after blurred into one long, silent war. I avoided him in the halls, slipped away from rooms the second he entered, kept my eyes glued to my plate at meals. But Damon didn’t make it easy. Sometimes he leaned against doorframes with his arms crossed and that infuriating smirk tugging at his mouth, like he knew exactly how he was unraveling me. Sometimes his arm brushed mine in the hallway, just long enough to send sparks rushing through my veins. Sometimes I caught him watching me, storm-gray eyes unreadable yet hungry, like he was waiting for me to break.

And every night, I heard him pacing in his room across the hall. Heavy steps. Restless wolf. The sound burrowed into my dreams, left me twisted in my sheets with the bond pulsing like static I couldn’t escape.

You could just let him in, Jinx whispered one night, her voice sultry. End the pacing. End the war.

Not gonna happen.

One afternoon, when the walls of the house felt too tight, I slipped out the back steps, desperate for fresh air. I hadn't walked ten steps when I heard my name.

“Lyric.”

His voice froze me in place. Damon leaned against the railing, cigarette between his fingers, smoke curling lazily into the pale sky. His work shirt hung open at the collar, grease still dark on his skin, his posture too casual for the storm in his eyes. He looked dangerous. Tired. Devastatingly beautiful.

“You look tired,” he said, his gaze dragging across me with deliberate slowness.

“Don’t start.” My voice cracked as I tried to push past him, but his hand closed gently around my wrist. Not hard, not controlling—just enough to tie me to him. The mark woke instantly, heat licking up my arm until it burned.

His voice dropped low, rough, the sound sinking into my bones. “The bond’s eating you alive, isn’t it?”

I yanked my arm free, ignoring the tremor that rattled my fingers, ignoring the way my wolf whimpered at the loss of his touch. “You don’t get to talk about it.”

He tilted his head, studied me like he was pulling me apart piece by piece. That humorless half-smile tugged at his lips. “Liar.”

The word scraped against my chest, and before my heart betrayed me further, I stormed back inside and slammed the door hard enough to rattle the walls.

Distraction. I needed one.

So when Jess called and begged me to come to the diner, I said yes.

The neon lights, the hum of the jukebox, the scent of beer and fryer oil—it almost felt normal. Jess shoved a drink into my hand, Caleb slid in beside me with his easy smile and broad shoulders, and for the first time in days I forced out a laugh. It was thin, fragile, but it was something. Caleb’s knee brushed mine, his voice smooth as honey when he leaned in and murmured, “You look good, Lyric.”

I smiled because smiling was easier than fighting the fire in my veins. For a while, I let myself pretend.

Until the door slammed open.

And Damon walked in.

The entire room shifted with him. Wolves stilled. Conversations faltered. He didn’t have to say a word—his presence did it all. His eyes found me instantly, like he had been tracking me even in my absence, like the bond had dragged him here without his permission.

My stomach turned.

He moved through the diner slowly, deliberately, cutting a path straight to me. Caleb draped his arm across the back of my chair, careless, casual.

The sound that came from Damon was low and primal, a growl that vibrated through the air and into my bones. “Move your arm,” he said, voice sharp as steel, deep as Alpha command.

Caleb forced a chuckle. “Relax, man. We’re just talking.”

“Move it.” Damon’s tone left no room for argument. A command that struck bone.

Caleb’s arm dropped instantly. His grin faltered, words tripping into a muttered excuse before he slid off to the bar.

I shot to my feet, red hot anger blazing under my skin. “What the hell was that?”

Damon stepped closer, too close, his scent curling around me—cedar, leather, fire, smoke. His storm-gray eyes burned with something he wasn’t even trying to hide.

“I told Raiden I’d take care of my little step-sister,” he said smoothly, his voice carrying just enough for everyone nearby to hear. His eyes didn’t move from mine. “That’s all this is. Protecting you.”

The words sliced through me, public and sharp, humiliating in their restraint. My wolf bristled, not at the protection, but at the lie behind it.

Then his breath brushed my ear, low enough for only me to hear. “Run to whoever you want, Lyric. Your wolf will crawl back to me.”