MELISSA’S POV

“Grrr…”

The low scrape of chairs echoed as the bell rang, and almost immediately, the teacher packed up his things and walked out like he had somewhere better to be.

The students followed suit, chatter filling the classroom as bags zipped and footsteps shuffled.

I didn’t move immediately, Instead, my eyes slowly drifted to Brittany.

Ever since the incident in the washroom… she had been off. Too quiet. Too still. Like someone had drained all the life out of her.

At some point during class, I could’ve sworn I saw tears in her eyes, but she wiped them so fast I almost doubted myself.

Something was wrong.

Really wrong.

I didn’t know what exactly, and I didn’t want to push her, but at the same time… I hated seeing her like this. This wasn’t my Britt. She was loud, dramatic, full of energy—not this hollow version sitting beside me.

From what little I understood, Clinton probably didn’t approve of whoever she was with and got angry seeing them together.

Which, honestly? Was completely unfair. He was her mate for fuck sake!

I sighed quietly and reached for her bag, helping her pack up without a word. She didn’t protest. Didn’t even react much.

“Can we go home now?” I asked softly, tapping her arm.

She nodded and stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

We walked out in silence.

The parking lot was almost empty by the time we got there. A few cars remained scattered around, and among them was… Clinton’s car.

Right.

Dad had mentioned it that morning that we’d be going home with him.

I swallowed hard and opened the back door, sliding in. Brittany got in beside me without a word.

My eyes lifted instinctively to the mirror, just enough to see his physique staring back at me.

He was dressed casually now, his expression blank as ever, like nothing had happened earlier. Like he didn’t almost kill someone. Like he didn’t… call me…

I quickly looked away.

“Can you stop grooming already?” his voice cut through the silence.

I blinked, then realized he was talking to Brittany.

She stiffened beside me. “I’m sorry… I—I… please don’t tell Dad and Mom, I…”

A low growl left his throat and instantly the hair on my arms stood on edge. I felt myself shrink into the leather seat.

“Get a grip of yourself, Brittany,” he snapped, his voice tight with restrained anger. “You better stop grooming, or I can’t promise I won’t kill that freaking bastard.”

Brittany let out a small, awkward laugh, like she was trying to brush it off, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I'm fine."

“Better,” Clinton muttered.

I just blinked, looking between the two of them.

Werewolves were strange, but these two were on an entirely different level of complicated.

Clinton kicked the engine to life, and we peeled out of the lot.

The rest of the ride was silent.

Uncomfortably silent.

By the time we got home, I didn’t wait. I opened the door and stepped out first, inhaling deeply as if I had been holding my breath the entire time.

Brittany followed, but instead of waiting, she walked straight inside and disappeared upstairs without a word.

I sighed.

First day of school and it had been an unmitigated disaster.

“Melissa.”

My body stiffened at the sound of his voice behind me.

I turned slowly. “Yes?”

Clinton’s gaze held mine for a brief moment before he spoke. ​“I want to apologize on Cassie’s behalf,” he said, his voice level. “It won't repeat itself in the future.”

​My chest tightened, a sharp pang of jealousy blooming where I didn't want it.

He was apologizing for her.

He must really adore his mate, enough to clean up her mess!

I nodded quickly. “It’s fine.”

I didn’t trust my voice enough to say more.

I turned to leave, rushing upstairs and bumped straight into… Mom— Mrs. Houston.

“Oh…sorry,” I said quickly, lowering my head slightly. “Good afternoon, Mom.”

“I was just coming to see you.” She smiled warmly.

“Is everything okay?” I blinked.

“Yes,” she said gently. “I just wanted to tell you to stay indoors for the rest of the day. Preferably in your room after dinner.”

I frowned slightly.

“It’s the full moon tonight. You know how it gets with wolves during heat.” She added quickly.

Oh.

Right.

“And Brittany and Clinton’s mates will be joining us for dinner,” she continued. “So you’ll meet them properly before… everything begins.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

It still felt strange.

Two years ago, none of them had found their mates.

Now…everything had changed and here I was gonna feel like a stranger in my own home.

“How was school?” she asked.

“Fine,” I replied quickly, not wanting to get into everything.

She smiled and nodded, and I took that as my escape. “I’ll go freshen up.”

“Alright.”

I practically rushed to my room.

The moment the door shut behind me, I let out a long breath and dropped my bag onto the bed.

“What a day…” I muttered.

My hand slowly rose to my cheek, and I winced slightly at the lingering pain. I brushed it off and headed into the bathroom, hoping a shower would clear my head.

Well…it didn't. I sure lost track of time and the warm water helped, but it didn’t fix anything.

Suddenly, a knock came at the door, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Yes?” I called.

“The Alpha requests your presence in the dining room,” a maid’s voice came through the door.

“I’ll be there.”

I changed quickly and made my way downstairs, my steps slower this time.

I greeted my foster parents, and they responded warmly as always. I sat down quietly as the maids served the food.

“Little vixen,” Dad called, clearing his throat. “I’d like you to meet our guests.”

I nodded, lifting my gaze…And froze.

Cassandra.

And… another guy.

Clinton sat beside Cassandra, eating like none of this concerned him, while Brittany sat next to the guy, her expression cold and distant.

“This is Cassandra Norman,” Dad said, gesturing toward her. “Clinton’s mate.”

I nodded stiffly, avoiding her gaze.

“And this,” he continued, pointing at the guy, “is Franklin Jones. Brittany’s mate.”

My eyes widened.

Wait…what?

“He… he’s Brittany’s mate?” I stuttered.

“Yes,” he replied. “Have you two met before?”

“No,” I said quickly, shaking my head.

And suddenly…everything made sense.

The boy at the rink, Clinton’s anger, Brittany’s tears…it all made sense.

She wasn’t with her mate. She was cheating!

My well cultured Brittany was cheating on her mate!

My chest tightened painfully as I lowered my gaze to my plate.

I couldn’t even taste the food anymore.

After a few forced bites, I pushed my chair back. “I’m full.”

“Alright, vixen.” Dad smiled, watching me get on my feet.

“It’s almost 7:45. The full moon will be out soon, so stay in your room.” Mom reminded.

“I will,” I said and walked out quickly.

The moment I got to my room and shut the door, my heart started racing again.

Why would Brittany do that?

Why?

I walked toward the window, staring at the sky. The moon was almost full, glowing softly against the darkening sky.

Soon, it would rise completely and they would all…

I swallowed hard.

I shouldn’t be thinking about that, but my mind betrayed me.

What if…

What if it was me?

What if I was the one…

I shook my head quickly, stepping away from the window.

“No,” I whispered.

I didn’t want that.

Or maybe…

I did.

I didn’t even know anymore.

Time passed without me noticing until the moon finally rose, full and bright.

I shut the curtains and walked to my bed, laying down and pulling the duvet over myself.

If I slept, maybe tomorrow would be better, maybe everything would make sense. But no matter how hard I tried, I kept turning and turning and turning. Sleep wouldn’t come.

My mind refused to shut up.

“Help… save me…” A aching voice echoed in my head and immediately… my eyes snapped open.

I sat up instantly, my heart pounding violently as I looked around the room.

No one.

“Help… save me…”

The voice echoed again…Inside my head.

My breath hitched. No…No way.

I'd…I’d never mistake that voice.

Clintons’

CLINTON'S POV

I watched her go, shoving another spoonful of food down my throat without even tasting it. It felt like swallowing gravel.

My chest was tightening so badly I could barely draw a full breath, and the familiar, agonizing heat of the full moon was already beginning to claw at my insides.

I knew this year would be the worst.

Every single second she was in my line of sight, all I could think about was dragging her to the nearest flat surface and finally, finally taking what belonged to me. But there was a line—a thick, jagged line—and I knew I couldn't cross it.

If I started, I wouldn't be able to stop until I’d ruined everything. I couldn't destroy the peace between our families, and I couldn't break the fragile reality she lived in.

I dropped my spoon, the clatter echoing too loudly in the tense silence of the dining room. I pushed my chair back and stood up abruptly.

"I'm full. I'll be in my room," I muttered, not waiting for a response from my parents or the "guests" at the table.

I walked off, my stride stiff and hurried. Once inside my room, I slammed the door and locked it, leaning my forehead against the cool wood for a second. The silence didn't help; it only made the pounding in my blood louder.

I walked over to my safe, my fingers trembling as I punched in the code. I reached inside and pulled out a small, worn photograph. Staring at it was the only thing that brought me a modicum of peace.

It was Melissa, three years younger, laughing at something off-camera. I remembered that day.

I remembered the exact moment my wolf had reared up and howled “Mate!” so loudly I thought my lungs would burst.

I had been too stunned to speak, too terrified of what it meant for a future Alpha to be tethered to a human that I let her slide through my fingers, before her mother had forced her away to Paris.

I should have stopped her. I should have claimed her right then and there, damn the consequences. Maybe then my life wouldn't be this complicated web of lies and pain.

The heat spiked again, a wave of fire rolling over my skin. I didn't know how much longer I could hold back. Having her under the same roof was a special kind of torture.

A sharp knock sounded at the door and immediately, the scent of vanilla filled my nostrils.

I shoved the picture back into the safe and locked it with a click. "Come in," I rasped, sitting heavily in the armchair.

Cassandra walked in, looking tentative. "The Alpha said I should come over. Everyone is currently with their mate, and he said I should be with mine."

I gave a curt nod, my jaw clamped shut. "Okay."

Another wave of heat hit me, more violent than the last. My body temperature was skyrocketing.

Slowly, I unbuttoned my shirt with frantic fingers, tossing it aside as I ran my hands through my hair.

The air in the room felt like it was boiling. I needed her. I needed my mate, but I couldn't subject her to this.

She was human; she was too fragile to survive the raw, unbridled hunger of a shifting young Alpha in heat.

"Are you okay?" Cassandra asked, stepping closer.

I looked up, my vision blurring at the edges. She was standing right over me.

"Get out," I breathed, the words coming out as a warning growl.

Instead of leaving, she reached out, her hand sliding across my bare chest. "The Luna asked me not to leave your side, Clinton."

I slapped her hand away, my temper flaring white-hot. "Get out before I lose my mind with you!"

My body was screaming for release, craving the friction, the skin-to-skin contact—anything to dull the ache. But I wouldn't betray the girl in that photograph. I wouldn't let a sham contract ruin the only thing that felt real.

"I'm sorry, Clinton," Cassandra whispered, her voice tightening. "But I can't stand the way you keep neglecting me. This might be fake, but…but I want you."

Before I could move, she reached for my belt, her fingers fumbling with the buckle.

The heat in my blood surged into an explosion of rage.

A low, guttural growl escaped my lips as I grabbed her wrists and without thinking, flung her aside, watching her sprawl onto the floor.

I staggered to my feet, my balance wavering. I lunged forward, grabbing her by the neck and pinning her against the wall— not enough to kill her, but enough to make sure she understood.

"This is a contract," I hissed, my face inches from hers. "Never forget you're just a fake mate and the fact that our relationship is a total sham."

“I still haven't settled the fact that you laid a hand on my mate today. Do not test my patience, Cassandra. You know exactly how deadly I can be."

She coughed, her eyes wide with genuine terror. "I'm... sorry."

I released her, watching her slump to the ground like a pathetic slut she was. "Get out!"

She didn't wait. She scrambled to her feet, pulled the door open, and vanished into the hall.

I slammed the door shut, my hands shaking so violently I could barely turn the lock.

I collapsed to the floor, clutching my abdomen as a wave of sheer agony rolled through me. My temperature was high enough to kill a normal man, and the pressure in my pants was becoming unbearable.

"Melissa..." I groaned, clutching at my chest. "I need you. Help me..."

The thoughts started leaking out, my mental barriers crumbling under the weight of the moon.

“Help... save me. I can't control it.”

Faintly, I heard a soft knock at the door.

My nostrils flared and immediately that Freesia and rain scent hit me.

My strength returned in a sudden, desperate surge. I clawed my way to my feet and staggered to the door, pulling it open.

There she was. Melissa.

I tried to shut the door, my last shred of nobility telling me to protect her from the beast I was becoming, but my strength deserted me. I collapsed to the ground, gasping for air.

"Clinton!" She stepped in quickly, kneeling beside me and helping me sit up. "Are you okay? Where's Cassandra?"

"She left," I managed to choke out.

I could see the shock in her eyes, the confusion, but my brain was beyond logic. All I could register was the softness of her skin and the urge to rip that dress off her body.

"Get out," I muttered, weakly pushing her hand away. "Get out, Mel."

"Stay still," she countered, her voice firm despite the tremble in her hands. "You're too weak to even stand."

She somehow managed to hoist me up, guiding my staggering steps toward the bed.

As soon as I sat down, I shoved her away again. "Please, go…before I lose control. I won't be able to stop."

She ignored me, reaching out to press her cool palm against my forehead. "You're burning up, Clinton. What's wrong with you?"

Her face was so close and I could barely register her words. The scent of her was intoxicating, a drug that finally broke the last tether of my restraint. Before I could think, before I could stop the monster, I reached out and grabbed the back of her head, pulling her down and…slammed my lips against hers.

Her eyes went wide, her body freezing in shock, but I didn't care. Her lips were softer than I’d visualized, tasting of everything I’d ever wanted. I needed more.

I rolled us over, pinning her beneath me on the mattress, my weight pressing her into the sheets.

"I can't control it, Mel," I groaned. "Please... just go."

"Does your body ache for me, Clinton?" she whispered, her voice stuttering.

A soft, possessive growl vibrated in my throat. She definitely didn't want a response to that.

Her hands slowly came up, resting against my bare chest, and I shivered at the contact.

"You don't know what you're doing to me," I muttered. "Go. Before I stop being a man and become a beast."

"Why?" she breathed, her eyes searching mine. "Why are you drawn to me today? Shouldn't you be with Cassie? She's your mate..."

"She's not my mate, Melissa!" I snapped, the sound of her calling that girl my mate hitting a nerve I didn't know I had.

I pushed myself up on my elbows, my thumb brushing over her swollen lower lip.

"You are my mate, Melissa. The only one my wolf and my body recognize. The only one I crave. Not her."

I looked down at her, my heart breaking even as my body burned. "I've craved you for two years. Every day has been torture since you came back. But you're human…You're too fragile for this. I don't want you getting caught in my games."

She reached up, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me back down toward her.

"I want you," she said, the words clear and defiant.

"I can't feel the bond, Clinton... but I know I want you."

She looked me dead in the eyes, her soul bared to mine.

"Claim me, Clinton."

My eyes searched hers and then, the last shred of my control snapped.

I let out a low, predatory growl and slammed my lips back onto hers, my hand sliding down to yank her gown upward, exposing the soft skin of her thigh.

Fuck! I was gonna ruin her.