CHAPTER FIVE

Harry

I keep seeing Brianna because it is easier than stopping.

She fits into my life the way she always has, familiar, expected and not complicated, and I tell myself that matters. I tell myself this is what stability looks like, even though nothing about it feels solid anymore.

She talks. I nod. She reaches for me and I let her. My hands move out of habit, not hunger, and I hate myself for noticing the difference.

She notices too.

“You’re not here,” she says eventually, her fingers sliding up my arm, her voice trying to sound light. “You’ve been distant.”

“I’m busy,” I reply.

She studies my face longer than usual. “You’ve always been busy.”

I don’t answer.

The silence stretches and I feel the bond stir under my skin, restless, irritated and pulling my attention somewhere else. I shift away from her without thinking, my jaw tightening.

Her expression sharpens. “Is this about her.”

I look at her then, too fast. “Don’t start.”

That confirms it.

She exhales, sitting back. “You won’t even deny it.”

“There’s nothing to deny.”

“She lives in your house,” Brianna says. “She carries your child. You don’t think that affects things.”

My mood snaps. “Watch what you say.”

She stares at me, startled by my tone, then offended. “I’m just asking for reassurance.”

I have none to give.

The bond hums harder, pressure building in my chest, in my head, in my body, and I push it down with sheer will because acknowledging it would mean admitting I am already losing everything to Bella who only acted nonchalant.

I leave shortly after, ignoring Brianna’s silence, her disappointment following me out the door.

The next few days are worse.

Every interaction with Bella turns very cold. Words come out wrong, decisions feel personal when they shouldn’t. She questions a supply route and I hear defiance instead of logistics. I correct her tone and she looks at me like she’s biting back something she won’t say.

We stand too close in hallways and meetings, our hands brush when passing documents. The bond reacts instantly, heat flaring and awareness snapping tight.

I hate it. I hate it so badly.

I hate that my body responds before my mind does.

~

“You’re overstepping,” I say.

“I’m doing my job,” she replies.

“This is not your authority.”

“You gave it to me.”

I step closer before I realize it. “Don’t test me.”

She doesn’t back away. “Then stop pushing me Alpha, I'm only here to act as your Luna and I'll be away before you know it.”

“Stop saying that!” I snapped and I could see her face flare up in anger.

“Then please my Lord, what else should I say?!” She snapped back.

The bond surges, violent and demanding, and suddenly I’m not thinking anymore. My hand closes around her wrist. She gasps, more surprised than afraid, and that sound hits something raw in me.

I should have let go but I didn't.

Her other hand presses against my chest, not to push me away, but to steady herself, and the contact detonates what little control I have left.

I pull her closer.

The argument dissolves into breath and heat and frustration spilling over. My mouth finds hers without permission or patience, rough, urgent and driven by need instead of thought. She responds instantly, like she’s been holding herself back just as hard, her fingers gripping my shirt, her body pressing into mine.

The bond roared that instant.

I lift her onto the desk, movements harsh, desperate, my hands everywhere and nowhere at once. There is no softness in it, no hesitation, only the need to feel her, to claim something I have been denying since the rejection.

“Ahhh…Harry,” She moaned out loud.

“Now, this is when you can call me my lord,” I groaned, kissing her neck, down to her stomach, I could feel the excitement on her skin.

“Ah.. My…My Lord,” She moaned loudly again.

Everything about this feels wrong and inevitable at the same time.

Clothes shift, skin meets skin, and the bond finally quiets as our bodies fall into a rhythm that feels too natural, too right. I hate how easily she fits against me, how my body knows exactly what to do with hers, how the pressure inside me eases only when she’s close like this.

My hands slowly found its way to her swollen clint and I smirked.

There is no tenderness, only hunger and frustration burning through both of us.

I spread her legs out wide and when she looked down at me, biting her lips so hard, I could see the hesitation in her eyes.

“Now you want this,” I smirked and I realised she didn't even know when she nodded. I only teased her more by not giving her what she wanted and her body practically begged.

I stood up and even though my member ached so bad, wanting to punish her for how she had been ignoring me, I still didn't want to give in and I could see the embarrassment flush up her skin.

“Don't try to disobey me and I won't punish you for it,” I smirked.

“You bastard!” She hit my chest but immediately realised what she had said as her eyes widened in shock. “I'm….”

A smug smile only formed across my lips.