chapter 7

I woke up with his name already in my head.

It was the third night in a row that I had barely slept, and the lack of rest was starting to show. My eyes felt heavy. My wolf was restless, pacing under my skin like it was searching for something it couldn’t reach. I knew exactly what it wanted. I just refused to give in.

When I finally forced myself out of bed, the house was already awake. I could hear low voices downstairs—my mother’s soft laugh, the deeper tone of Tristan’s father. And underneath it, the quiet awareness that Tristan was somewhere nearby. The bond made sure of that. It pulled at me like an invisible thread, constant and impossible to ignore.

I took longer than usual to get ready, hoping he would leave for school before I came down. It didn’t work. When I stepped into the kitchen, Tristan was leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee in his hand, dressed in a dark hoodie and jeans. His eyes found me the second I appeared.

The air between us shifted.

My mother smiled, completely unaware. “Morning, sweetheart. You look tired. Did you sleep okay?”

“Fine,” I lied, keeping my gaze away from Tristan. I grabbed a piece of toast I didn’t want and muttered something about needing to get to school early.

Tristan’s voice stopped me before I reached the doorway.

“I’ll drive you.”

I turned just enough to look at him. “No.”

My mother’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Phyna, that’s nice of him. The car’s been making that noise again. Maybe it’s better if—”

“I said no.” The words came out sharper than I intended. I softened my tone immediately. “I’d rather walk. It’s not far.”

Tristan’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue in front of them. He simply watched me with that same steady intensity as I left the house. I felt his eyes on my back until the door closed behind me.

The walk to school did nothing to clear my head. If anything, the distance only made the pull worse. By the time I reached the front steps, my chest felt tight and my wolf was agitated.

The rumors had gotten uglier.

I heard them the moment I entered the main hallway.

“She’s living in his house.”

“I heard Tristan’s been watching her.”

“Stepsister or not, she needs to know her place.”

A group of girls near the lockers went quiet when I passed. One of them, the tall brunette from the day before, stepped into my path with a sweet, false smile.

“Phyna, right?” she said. “I’m Lila. Just wanted to give you a little friendly advice. Tristan’s not someone you should get comfortable with. He’s fun for a while, but he always gets bored. And when he does, the girls he leaves behind don’t have an easy time here.”

I kept my face blank. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Her smile sharpened. “Sure you don’t.”

She stepped aside, but the warning in her eyes lingered. I walked away with my hands clenched around the strap of my bag, forcing myself not to look back.

I spent the morning doing everything I could to stay invisible. Different routes. Late entrances. Empty corners of classrooms. It almost worked—until third period ended and I stepped into the hallway to find Tristan waiting near my locker.

He wasn’t alone. Two of his friends stood nearby, talking, but his attention was fixed on me the second I appeared. Students noticed. Of course they did. Conversations quieted. Eyes turned.

I stopped a few feet away, heart pounding.

“You’re making it worse,” I said under my breath.

“You’re avoiding me again.”

“I told you I would.”

Tristan stepped closer. Not enough to touch me, but enough that his presence wrapped around me like heat. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” His voice dropped lower. “I can feel it, Phyna. The bond is stressing your wolf. You’re barely sleeping. You’re barely eating. Fighting this is hurting you.”

I looked away. “Then stop making it harder.”

“I can’t.” The words were quiet but absolute. “Every time you walk away, it feels like something is being ripped out of me. Do you understand that?”

I did. That was the problem. I understood it too well. The same ache lived in my own chest. The same restless need. But understanding it didn’t make it safe.

Before I could answer, Lila appeared at the end of the hallway with two other girls. Her eyes narrowed the moment she saw us standing so close. Tristan noticed her at the same time I did. His posture shifted—subtle, but unmistakably protective.

“Go to class,” he said quietly. “I’ll deal with this.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I slipped past him and into the crowd, ignoring the way my wolf snarled at the idea of leaving him behind.

The rest of the day dragged. I couldn’t focus. Every time the bond flared—every time I caught a faint trace of his scent in the hallway or felt that distant pull—I had to grit my teeth and keep moving. By the final bell, I was exhausted.

I left school the moment I could and walked home alone. The Alpha house felt too large when I stepped inside. My mother was out with Tristan’s father. The silence pressed against my ears.

I made it halfway up the stairs before I heard the front door open behind me.

Tristan’s scent reached me first.

I didn’t turn around. I kept walking until I reached my room and tried to close the door. His hand caught it before it shut.

We stood there for a moment, the door half-open between us. His eyes were darker than usual, the gold flickering just beneath the surface.

“You’re hurting yourself,” he said.

“I’m protecting myself.”

“From what? From me?” He pushed the door open wider and stepped inside, closing it quietly behind him. The soft click of the lock made my pulse spike. “I’m not going to hurt you, Phyna.”

“You already are.” The confession slipped out before I could stop it. “Just by being near me. Just by looking at me like that. People are watching. They’re already choosing sides. And I know exactly which side loses.”

Tristan’s expression tightened. He took a slow step closer. Then another. I backed up until my legs hit the edge of the bed. He stopped just in front of me, close enough that I had to tilt my head to meet his eyes.

“I hate that you’re scared of this,” he said. “I hate that our parents’ marriage makes you feel like you have to hide. But I am not going to stand here and watch you tear yourself apart trying to deny what’s real.”

My breathing had gone shallow. The bond was louder now that we were alone, thrumming under my skin like a second heartbeat. My wolf pushed forward, desperate for contact, for closeness, for the one thing I kept refusing.

“I don’t know how to do this,” I whispered. “I don’t know how to be someone’s mate when the whole world is ready to hate me for it.”

Tristan lifted a hand and this time he didn’t stop himself. His fingers brushed a strand of hair away from my face, then rested lightly against my cheek. The simple touch sent a shiver straight through me.

“Then let me help you,” he said. “Stop running long enough to let me protect you.”

I closed my eyes. For one dangerous second, I leaned into his hand. The relief was immediate—warm, steady, and terrifying. My wolf settled for the first time in days. The constant ache in my chest eased just enough to make me realize how much it had been hurting.

Then reality crashed back in.

I pulled away.

Tristan’s hand fell to his side. He didn’t look surprised. Only frustrated. And something deeper. Something that looked a lot like longing.

“I need time,” I said, my voice unsteady. “Please. Just… give me time.”

He studied me for a long moment. Then he nodded once, slow and reluctant.

“I’ll try,” he said. “But the bond doesn’t care about time, Phyna. And neither does the way I feel about you.”

He turned and walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.

I sank down onto the bed and pressed my hands over my face.

The worst part wasn’t that he was still pushing.

The worst part was that a growing piece of me no longer wanted him to stop.