Lines Crossed

The small, dimly lit dorm room smelled faintly of antiseptic and blood, with a sterile undertone that didn’t quite hide the auroma of violence.

The yellow lamp on the desk flickered every few seconds, casting broken shadows across the walls.

A cold breeze slipped in through the open window, stirring the tension in the air and making the thin curtains dance like restless spirits.

Ethan sat tiredly in the expensive chair, his legs spread carelessly, one hand resting on his thigh while the other draped limply over the backrest.

His face was a patchwork of bruises and dried blood, but he wore the damage like armor, his smirk smug and unfazed.

Lena stood in front of him, her eyes narrowed, lips pressed in a thin line.

Her fingers dabbed harshly at the cut on his cheek with a cotton pad soaked in disinfectant.

The sharp sting made his muscles twitch, but he didn’t flinch.

He just smiled.

“Idiot,” she muttered, pressing harder than necessary, as if she wanted the disinfectant to sting deeper—into his bone, his pride, his ego.

Ethan winced slightly, then gave a low chuckle.

“Careful, Lena. I might start thinking you actually care about my pretty face.”

“I care about the plan, Ethan,” she snapped, her voice colder than the breeze creeping in through the window. “Not your damned face. And you just blew everything by going after Lily in front of Lucas and Liam. Are you insane, or just suicidal?”

Ethan stretched out his legs, groaning lazily.

“Relax. They were always going to snap. They’re Alphas, Lena. It’s in their nature to piss on what they think is theirs.”

“That’s not the point!” she shouted, tossing the bloodied cotton into the trash can with a violent flick. “You weren’t supposed to provoke them. You were supposed to get close—gain their trust. Put yourself into their world so we could take it apart from the inside. Subtlety, remember that word?”

He tilted his head toward her, the light dancing over his swollen cheek.

“Subtlety is overrated. And I am inside now. Just... in a different way.”

“Are you even hearing yourself?” Lena asked, throwing her arms up. “You’re gambling everything because some pretty Luna smacked you in the face and didn’t flinch when you pulled her close?”

Ethan’s smirk faltered for a fraction of a second.

“I’m not gambling,” he said, his voice low now, a thread of something darker beneath it. “I’m adapting.”

Lena crossed her arms, pacing the narrow space like a wolf in a cage.

“You think they will invite you to sit around a campfire and share secrets after you basically challenged both Alphas? You're lucky they didn't kill you right there.”

He shrugged.

“They touched me, Lena. That doesn’t sit right with me. They need to learn boundaries.”

“Oh, spare me the ego trip.” She stopped pacing and rounded on him, eyes blazing. “This isn’t about your pride. This is about the mission. The revenge. Or have you forgotten what they did? Our mission?”

Ethan’s jaw tightened.

His hand clenched into a fist, his knuckles white.

“I haven’t forgotten,” he said, voice hard and cold. “I never will.”

Lena stared at him, her breath coming fast.

“Then stop acting like a hormonal idiot. Lily isn’t yours to play with. She’s the key to everything. If you mess this up, we lose our chance. Everything we’ve worked for—gone.”

Ethan leaned back in the chair, gazing at the ceiling like it held the answers.

He remembered the flash of confusion in Lily’s eyes. The way her body stiffened but didn’t pull away when he touched her.

It wasn’t just hate. There was a fracture in her.

A doubt or perhaps a kind of weakness.

He had seen it in hundreds of others before—he knew how to exploit it.

“She’s not just their Luna,” he murmured.

Lena blinked.

“What?”

He looked back at her, his eyes suddenly sharp, calculating.

“She’s their weakness.”

There was a beat of silence, like the room itself had gone still.

“Explain,” Lena said carefully, her voice flat.

“If I can reach her,” Ethan said slowly, “if I can twist her, make her question everything—Lucas, Liam, their bond—then we don’t need to get close to them. We can burn their world down from the inside through her.”

Lena chewed her bottom lip, frowning.

“That’s risky. If she figures it out, if they even suspect…”

“She won’t. Not yet,” Ethan cut in. “She’s too caught up in her own confusion. I saw it, Lena. She doesn’t fully belong to them. Not yet. That means we still have a window.”

Lena hesitated, doubt flickering in her gaze.

“She’s strong. Stronger than she looks.”

“And that’s what makes this interesting,” Ethan replied, a glint of something feral in his eyes.

“You’re not supposed to enjoy this,” she hissed. “You’re supposed to use her, manipulate her and destroy her when i say so.”

“I am using her,” Ethan said. “But if I can have some fun while doing it…”

Lena stepped in close, jabbing a finger into his chest.

“Promise me you won’t lose focus. Promise me you won’t fall for her.”

There was a long, heavy silence.

Ethan stood slowly, towering over her now.

His shadow fell across her face, dark and looming.

“Promise?” he echoed, amusement lacing his voice, but his eyes gave nothing away.

“Yes. Say it.” Her voice trembled now, but she held her ground. “Swear it, Ethan.”

He leaned in, their faces inches apart.

“Fine,” he whispered. “I promise.”

But in the hollow space behind his words, doubt coiled like smoke.

A part of him, buried deep and growing louder, knew the promise was already broken.

Lena turned away, retreating to the other side of the room, arms folded tight.

She didn’t believe him, not fully.

Ethan stepped toward the mirror above the desk.

His reflection stared back—half-swollen, bloodied, but still arrogant, still sure.

“I’ll break them,” he said softly, his voice laced with quiet steel. “Lucas and Liam. The whole pack. And if Lily gets caught in the storm, then maybe she should’ve picked a better side.”

As Ethan turned and walked out, Lena stared at the closed door, her heart pounding with dread.

She didn’t know what scared her more: that Ethan was falling for Lily...

Or that he was hiding something from her.

Either way, something had shifted.

And it was only the beginning of the storm.