Chapter 8 Cracked Control

The forest at the edge of the academy grounds had always been my sanctuary.

Twisted roots, thick shadows, and wild winds that didn't care about titles, bloodlines, or whether your destined mate had humiliated you in front of everyone you once called your own. Out here, I wasn't a rejected nobody. I was just Eva, scarred and alive.

My hoodie clung to my damp skin as I slammed my fists against the thick bark of a dead tree over and over, each strike harder than the last. The skin on my knuckles split, blood smearing the grain. I didn't care; pain made it real. Pain was proof I was still standing.

"Careful, trees hit back harder when they've had enough."

I froze.

The voice was low, deep and too familiar.

Dante.

I didn't turn around. "Stalking me now?"

"You're bleeding," he said, ignoring the question.

"I'm healing."

"You're not supposed to be out past the crescent bell," he added, stepping into view, hands shoved in his pockets, posture loose but I wasn't fooled. His muscles were always coiled, ready to strike.

"I wasn't aware I needed your permission to breathe."

"You don't but if something out here kills you, it becomes my problem."

"You made it very clear I'm not your problem."

He didn't respond.

The air between us tensed.

His eyes moved to my hands. "You're not training. You're punishing yourself."

"And you'd know all about punishment, wouldn't you, Alpha?" I hissed, pushing past him.

He grabbed my arm.

I yanked away. "Don't touch me."

But he didn't let go.

"Let me go," I growled, voice laced with my wolf's edge.

"You think you're strong now?" he snapped, his voice a low snarl. "You think a few bruises make you worthy of this world?"

"I don't need to prove anything to you."

"Then why are you out here breaking yourself?" His grip tightened, but not enough to hurt. His voice dropped. "Why are you still letting me get under your skin?"

Because I hate you.

Because I want to hate you more than I want to admit I ever felt anything.

Because when you're close, I forget I'm supposed to forget you.

"Let go, Dante."

He released me.

But he didn't step back.

And neither did I.

A breeze rustled through the trees. Leaves swirled between us, glowing under the pale light of the rising moon.

His eyes changed.

Just for a flicker.

Not the normal silver, gold, or glowing and wild.

I blinked.

"Your eyes," I breathed.

He turned away sharply, fingers flexing at his sides. "Go back to your dorm, Eva."

But I didn't move.

I saw it-how his shoulders tensed, how his breathing quickened. How his jaw clenched like he was barely holding something back.

"What's wrong with you?" I whispered, stepping closer, against every instinct screaming at me to run.

"Nothing."

"Bullshit."

"I said leave."

But I couldn't, because something was wrong.

His control so perfect and so cold, was slipping.

"You're shifting," I realized, breath catching. "You're fighting your wolf."

His hands shook.

"I can handle it," he muttered, but his voice was strained, deeper, and not entirely human.

I took another step. "Why now?"

He didn't answer.

"Why me?" I asked again, softer this time.

He looked at me then really looked at me and what I saw in his eyes wasn't anger. It wasn't arrogance or mockery.

It was hunger, fear and desire.

"You smell like wildfire," he whispered, almost to himself. "Every time you're near, he claws at me."

My breath caught. "Your wolf wants?"

"He wants to claim you."

My heart slammed into my ribs.

"And what about you?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer would hurt.

Dante turned his face away like the truth was poison.

"I don't want you," he said harshly.

His words, they still cut. But his body betrayed him.

He was trembling and shaking, and when I looked down, his fingernails had sharpened into black claws pushing through.

"You're lying," I said, stepping forward.

His head snapped toward me. "Get back."

"No."

"I said,"

"I'm not afraid of your wolf," I whispered. "But I think you are."

That broke him.

With a roar, he shoved me back hard but caught me before I could fall. His hands pressed into my shoulders, his breath hot against my face. His body towered over mine, muscles tense, vibrating with the war waging beneath his skin.

"You don't understand," he growled, fangs beginning to peek from behind his lips. "If I shift now, if I lose it, I won't stop. Not until I've."

He bit it off but I knew what he meant.

Not until I've claimed you and goddess help me...

I didn't move.

His hand slid up the back of my neck, palm rough and shaking.

He leaned in. Our lips were inches apart.

His chest heaved. Mine did too.

For a heartbeat, we breathed the same air. The bond between us sparked like lightning in the dark.

And then, a howl high and piercing.

It echoed through the trees, breaking whatever moment had started to form between us.

Dante jerked back like he'd been scorched. He turned his face upward and growled-a full, guttural snarl.

The wolf was right there.

"Go," he ordered, his voice breaking with the beast's edge. "Before I lose control."

"I-I,"

"GO!"

I ran.

Not because I was afraid. But because I wasn't sure what I'd do if I stayed.

And because I wasn't ready for the answer I'd seen burning in his eyes.

*****

Later, in my room, I stared at the ceiling long after the moon had reached its peak.

Dante Thorne almost shifted near me.

Not out of rage, but out of desire.

He said he didn't want me rejected me and humiliated me.

But tonight was different. And I saw what he was hiding behind that mask of indifference.

He wants me? Maybe not.

But if he thought he could ignore it...

He was wrong because I felt it, too.

And that scared me more than anything.