chapter 4

I made it home without speaking to him once.

That should have felt like a victory. Instead, it only made the silence inside the Alpha’s house feel heavier. My mother was in the kitchen talking with Tristan’s father when I walked in. I mumbled a quiet greeting, grabbed a glass of water, and went straight upstairs. I didn’t look toward the living room. I didn’t check if Tristan was already home. I just closed my bedroom door and locked it.

For the first time since I arrived, the lock felt necessary.

I dropped my bag on the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the wall. The rumors at school had grown louder by the last period. Girls I had never spoken to watched me in the hallway. Some whispered behind their hands. One of them had deliberately bumped my shoulder and muttered, “Stay away from him.”

I pressed my hands against my face.

This was exactly why I had to keep my distance. Tristan was not just popular. He was wanted. Claimed by half the school in their minds already. And I was the new Beta girl living under the same roof. If they believed even for a second that he was interested in me, my life here would become a nightmare.

A soft knock on my door made me freeze.

“Phyna.”

Tristan’s voice. Low. Calm. Too close.

I didn’t answer.

The knock came again, slower this time.

“I know you’re in there.”

I stayed silent, heart beating hard against my ribs. After a few seconds I heard him exhale, then the sound of his footsteps moving away. Only when the hallway went quiet again did I let myself breathe.

I thought I had won the evening.

I was wrong.

Later, long after the house had settled into night, I left my room to get water. The hallway was dark. The only light came from the kitchen downstairs. I moved quietly, careful not to make a sound. I had almost reached the top of the stairs when a shadow shifted beside me.

A hand closed around my wrist and pulled me back.

My back hit the wall. Tristan stood in front of me, closer than he had ever been. He was barefoot, wearing a black shirt that looked like he had thrown it on in a hurry. His eyes were darker in the low light, fixed on mine with an intensity that made my breath catch.

“You can’t keep running,” he said.

I tried to pull free. “Let go of me.”

He didn’t. Instead, his other hand came up, bracing against the wall beside my head. The space between us disappeared. His scent wrapped around me—warm, strong, and impossible to ignore. My wolf stirred violently under my skin, restless and confused.

“I’ve been trying to understand it since the moment I saw you,” he murmured. His voice had dropped lower. Rougher. “Why my wolf won’t settle. Why I can’t stop watching you. Why every time you walk away it feels wrong.”

“Tristan—stop.”

He leaned in. His forehead almost touched mine. I could feel the heat of his body, the steady control in the way he held himself back. Then something in his expression changed. His eyes flashed, just once, with a gold that didn’t belong to a human.

His breath hitched.

The hand on my wrist tightened—not painfully, but with sudden, absolute certainty.

“Phyna…”

My name left his mouth like a warning and a prayer at the same time.

Then he moved.

In one smooth motion he pulled me against him, one arm locking around my waist, the other sliding up to the back of my neck. My hands landed on his chest. I could feel his heart slamming under my palms. His eyes burned into mine, no longer calm, no longer teasing.

He stared at me like he was seeing me for the first time.

And then he growled, low and raw and final,

“Mate.”