Semua Bab Crossing The Line With My Hockey Stepbrother: Bab 11 - Bab 20

Phillip’s POVThe world had gone strangely quiet since the attack. Too quiet for peace, too loud for rest.I hadn’t seen Elizabeth in six days. I’d made sure of it. Instead, I had thrown myself into duty, doubling the border patrols and tracking scent trails incospicuously, inspeacting every inch of the western ridge where we’d fought.Despite my mother’s protests and my father’s warnings, I went out almost every night. With each night it grew more obvious that I wasn’t just avoiding her, I was avoiding myself. But how long could I possibly keep this up?All my private patrols amounted to nothing, however. The rogues seemed to have just vanished like smoke, and all I had to show for it was the small metal crest still sitting on my desk like an accusation.Every night I turned it over in his hand, tracing the claw that split the circle. The edges burned faintly against my skin. The metal was definitely not made by the pack. It was foreign.You should tell Reagan, Forrest muttered.And

Phillip’s POVIt had only been two days, but it felt longer. Like time itself was punishing me for staying away.I saw her the moment she walked into the courtyard. She wore a simple pair of jeans, a soft cream top, and her hair fell loose. Nothing extraordinary. And yet, the second her scent drifted through the air, that familiar blend of wild flowers and dawn, my wolf went feral beneath my skin.Mine. Forrest ordered like it was that simple.The word wasn’t said, but I felt it vibrate through every inch of me. I forced a slow exhale and shut my eyes for a second. The last thing I needed was to lose control on school grounds. But Elizabeth... she had that effect on me, and I didn’t know if she knew. Her laughter carried over the crowd, soft, unguarded, and my chest tightened painfully.She didn’t see me. Or maybe she pretended not to. I couldn’t tell which hurt more, but there was no space for weakness today.Classes, hockey practice, Reagan’s meeting - my schedule was already packed

Phillip’s POVThe graphite dragged in confident, practiced lines across the page, soft and sure. I shaded the curve of her lips, slightly parted, mid laughter, and I felt my chest tighten. I’d been staring at the reference photo on my phone for too long, memorizing every light in her eyes until the image burned itself into my mind.I can’t get it out of my head, the stolen moment in the art class. On my hands, in my lungs, under my skin. Her scent clings to my memory. Her soft, nervous, breathless laughter keeps replaying in the back of my mind, and I’m caught between guilt and a hunger I can’t explain. The sound of quick footsteps pulled me back to reality. Eli. Of course.My little brother leaned over the arm of the couch, chewing something loudly and annoyingly. “That’s her, isn’t it?”I tilt my sketchbook slightly away. “Her who?”He grinned, wide and unbothered. “Elizabeth. Remember her? Bit tall, shiny blond hair, green eyes? I think you do.” he persisted. “She came by the othe

Phillip's PovIt had been two days since the dinner at Reagan’s house, but the image of her sitting beside him refused to leave my head. Anthony. The weird prude I never really paid attention to before now.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her next to him, laughing softly, her hair catching the light, her mother smiling in approval.I should not care, but I did.It made no sense. She wasn't mine. Not really. Not in the way that counts. There were no vows, no promises, no claim that anyone else could see. Just a fragile, unspoken understanding that existed between us, built on glances that lingered too long, and moments that could never be mentioned.And yet..She is ours. Forrest assured.“No she’s not, Forrest. Shut up.” I whispered in response, but the mere utterance of those words pierced me like a dagger.It shouldn’t hurt this much. My imagination alone was killing me. But she’s not mine. Not by right, not by name, yet I kid myself to believe it was by something deeper.. someth

Phillip's PovLike a curse, my own words kept replaying in my head. The scene haunted me, followed me, showing up whenever I closed my eyes, and my heart had no escape either. Elizabeth’s voice cracked with heartbreak, echoing under Granny’s tree and beneath the heavy clouds. The sound of her footsteps fading. The silence after.Every time I blinked, I saw her face, the way her eyes shone before the tears fell. And every time I tried to forget, Forrest reminded me.He growled inside my mind, low and guttural. “Coward.”“Stop.” I replied, trying to get away from him.. from myself.I attempted to silence him with motion, early morning runs until my lungs burned, hockey drills until my arms screamed, sketching until my hand cramped, but nothing stuck.And the house was quiet whenever I came back from runs. The quiet served to taunt me, the very walls mocked me, mirroring my internal state.Mum would call out from the kitchen sometimes, her voice soft with concern, but I hardly replied.