JUST FRIENDS

Tyra's POV

"Enough," Osric growled, stepping out of the shadows of the adjoining hallway.

I didn't need to turn around to know it was him. His scent reached me a heartbeat before his voice did, pine and sun-warmed skin, and something in my chest unclenched before I could stop it.

But the man who walked up to stand beside me was not the sunny, teasing Osric from breakfast.

His shoulders were rigid, his jaw was locked tight, and his blue eyes had darkened with flecks of amber that told me his wolf was very close to the surface. The air around him seemed to thicken with every step, heavy with a quiet, dangerous power that made the hair on my arms stand on end.

Valentina straightened so fast she nearly stumbled. "Alpha Osric," she said quickly, her voice suddenly sweet and breathless. "I didn't mean—"

"You did," Osric cut in quietly.

He didn't raise his voice, but every word landed like a stone dropped into still water.

"You seem to have forgotten your place, Valentina," he continued coldly, his eyes never leaving her face. "And you seem to have forgotten that you are speaking to a member of the Forrest family." He let the silence stretch until she visibly squirmed. "Apologize."

Valentina's throat worked. For a moment, I honestly thought she was going to refuse. Her eyes flicked to me, burning with a hatred so raw it almost took my breath away, and then she dipped her head in a stiff, shallow bow.

"I apologize, Tyra," she forced out through clenched teeth.

I blinked, completely thrown. In all the years I had lived in this house, no one had ever made anyone apologize to me. I didn't know what to do with my hands, my face, or the strange hot feeling crawling up my neck.

"Now leave," Osric said flatly.

Valentina bowed again, quicker this time, and hurried down the corridor. Her heels clicked sharply against the stone floor, and her perfume lingered long after she had turned the corner, cloying and sweet like something left to rot.

The moment the echo of her footsteps faded, my knees nearly gave out.

I braced a hand against the cool windowsill and let out a long, shaky breath. Now that it was over, the adrenaline was draining out of me all at once, leaving my hands trembling and my eyes stinging with tears I absolutely refused to let fall.

I had done it. After ten years, I had finally looked Valentina Xane in the eye and refused to shrink.

So why did I feel like I was about to fall apart?

"You shouldn't let people talk to you like that," Osric said softly, the hard edge melting out of his voice as he turned to me.

The words stung, even though I knew he didn't mean them to.

"I wasn't letting her," I replied defensively, folding my arms tightly across my chest to hide how badly my hands were shaking. "I had it handled. I can defend myself."

"I know," he said, and the corner of his mouth tugged up into a small, proud smile. "I heard you. 'Which one of us never left high school?' Goddess, Tyra, I almost applauded."

I stared at him, caught completely off guard.

He wasn't laughing at me. He wasn't looking at me with pity, the way Valentina said he always had. He was looking at me like I had just done something brave, and that look did something dangerous to my chest.

"Then why did you step in?" I asked quietly.

His smile faded into something softer and more serious. "Because you shouldn't have to fight every battle alone," he said gently. "Not anymore."

"I've managed fine so far," I muttered, looking away.

"Sure you have," Osric replied softly, without any mockery at all. "That's why you look like you're ready to bolt every five minutes."

I opened my mouth to glare at him, but the words died in my throat, because he was right, and we both knew it.

He took a small step closer.

It wasn't enough to touch me, but it was enough for me to feel the heat rolling off his body, enough for his scent to wrap around me like a warm blanket on a cold night. My pulse stuttered. That same treacherous warmth from breakfast began to bloom low in my belly, slow and sweet, and I pressed my thighs together without meaning to.

"Osric," I warned, but my voice came out embarrassingly shaky.

"I'm just standing here," he murmured, his voice dropping into something low and intimate that I felt all the way down my spine. "Unless that's a problem."

My heart jumped. "It is when you're looking at me like that," I whispered.

"I can't help the way I look at my mate," he said softly.

The word hit me like a wave.

Last night, it had been a terrifying, primal growl that turned my whole world upside down. Now, in the quiet of the corridor, it sounded almost like a promise, tender and patient and a little bit sad.

"I…" I started, then stopped, my throat suddenly tight. I didn't even know what I had been about to say, whether it was that I didn't want this or that I didn't know how to want it. "Never mind," I mumbled.

He smiled again, a little sadly this time, like he had heard every word I didn't say.

"Do you remember how you used to hide behind your books?" he asked quietly. "You'd walk down this exact hallway with a stack of them pressed against your chest like a shield, just so you wouldn't have to look anyone in the eye."

My breath caught.

He had noticed. All those years when I thought I was invisible to them, he had noticed.

"I wasn't hiding," I said quickly, my cheeks burning. "I was studying."

Osric chuckled, low and warm. "You always were better at lying to yourself than to anyone else," he said fondly.

The tenderness in his voice nearly undid me.

"You don't know me anymore, Osric," I whispered, and I hated how much it sounded like a plea.

"Maybe not," he admitted softly, his blue eyes holding mine without wavering. "But I'd really love to."

I looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time since I came back.

He was the boy who had shrugged and turned back to his video game the day I arrived, the boy who had followed his brother out of the house every summer I came home. But he was also the man who had begged me not to reject him last night, who had thrown his own twin into a wall for keeping me from him, who had filled my coffee cup at breakfast while half the pack whispered, and who had just stood beside me and let me fight my own battle before he fought it with me.

Somewhere deep inside me, a wall I had spent ten years building quietly cracked.

I wasn't ready for a mate. I wasn't sure I would ever be ready for that word, or for the fire that came with it.

But maybe I could be ready for this.

"Friends," I heard myself say, my voice barely louder than a breath. "We can start with being friends."

Osric's whole face lit up like the sun breaking through clouds, so bright and so boyish that I had to bite back a smile of my own.

"Friends," he repeated softly, like I had just handed him something precious. "I can work with friends."

Something in the way he said it told me he had no intention of stopping there.

And the most terrifying part was that I didn't want him to.