My Alpha Stepbrother's Obsession

The cold bit through my skin before the chains did.

I stumbled when the wolf shifter guard shoved me forward, and the iron around my wrists rattled. Four years. Four years I'd run, and it took them less than a week to drag me back.

"Keep moving, traitor."

The Blackwood Pack gates rose in front of me, black stone slick with rain. The same gates I'd slipped through at sixteen, bare feet silent on the gravel, heart pounding like I'd die if I stayed one more second. Now I was coming back in chains, and my heart was pounding for the same reason.

Fear.

The great hall smelled like pine and wet fur and power. Fifty wolves lined the walls, heads turned toward me. Their eyes weren't curious. They were hungry.

And at the end of the hall, on the stone throne, sat Draven.

He'd been nineteen when I ran. He was twenty-three now. Broad shoulders filled the black jacket he wore. Dark hair fell over his forehead. A thin scar cut through his left brow - new, since I'd left. His jaw was tight. His eyes, when they landed on me, were flat and cold.

Like he was looking at a problem he had to solve.

Not at the girl he'd raised. Not at his step-sister. Not at his fated mate.

"Bring her here," he said. His voice was low. Deeper than I remembered.

The guard yanked the chain, and I lurched forward. My knees hit the stone floor five feet from the throne. I kept my eyes down. If I looked at him, I'd remember. I'd remember his hands teaching me to shoot. His voice telling me I was safe. The way he'd looked at me the night before I ran, like he wanted to say something and couldn't.

"Lila Hart." The Beta, Marcus, read from a scroll. "Four years ago, you fled the Blackwood Pack without permission. You broke pack law. You shamed your family. Alpha Draven has sentenced you to return and face judgment."

I didn't answer. What was there to say? I ran because I had to. Because if I stayed, I'd have to face the bond that tied me to him, and I wasn't ready. I wasn't strong enough.

"Look at me."

Draven's voice cut through the hall. I couldn't ignore it. My eyes lifted.

Mistake.

His eyes were grey, like storm clouds, and they pinned me in place. He wasn't handsome anymore. He was dangerous. His face was harder, his mouth set in a line that didn't bend. He studied me like he was memorizing every scar, every change.

"You're thinner," he said finally. Not loud. Just for me. "You look tired."

I swallowed. "I'm fine."

A lie. Wolves could smell it. I saw his nostrils flare slightly.

The bond between us snapped.

It hit like a punch to the chest. One second, nothing. The next, heat flooded my veins, my skin prickled, and my wolf rose inside me, clawing to get to him. To him. To Draven. My fated mate. My stepbrother. The man I'd spent four years trying to forget.

I gasped. My hands gripped the chain to keep from reaching for him.

Draven's expression didn't change. But his eyes darkened. He smelled it too. The bond. The pull. The fact that my body was betraying me right here, in front of the whole pack.

"Take her to my room," he said, standing. "Lock the door."

Murmurs rippled through the hall. Marcus stepped forward. "Alpha, the dungeons-"

"She's not going to the dungeons." Draven's voice didn't rise. It didn't need to. "She's mine for six months. My punishment to deal with."

My blood went cold. Mine. The word echoed in my head. Not prisoner. Not traitor. Mine.

Two guards hauled me to my feet. I didn't fight. I couldn't. The bond had my legs shaking. Draven turned and walked out, and the pack parted for him like water.

His room was at the top of the tower. Cold stone walls. A massive bed with black sheets. A fireplace, unlit. And a window that looked over the whole territory. The same room I'd cleaned when I was fifteen, when his father was still Alpha.

The guards shoved me inside. The door slammed. The lock clicked.

I was alone.

I sank to the floor, pressing my back to the door. My wolf whined. She wanted him. She wanted to run to him, press her face to his neck, breathe him in. I hated her for it. I hated me for it.

The door opened again ten minutes later.

Draven stepped in. He didn't look at me at first. He shrugged off his jacket, tossed it on a chair. Underneath, a black shirt stretched across his chest. The scar on his brow looked worse up close.

"You ran," he said, still not looking at me.

"Yes."

"Why?"

I closed my eyes. "Because I had to."

He turned then. Crossed the room in three strides and crouched in front of me. Up close, I could see the flecks of silver in his grey eyes. I could smell him - pine, leather, and something darker, wilder. My wolf surged.

"Look at me, Lila."

I did. God help me, I did.

"You think I don't know?" His voice was rough. "You think I didn't feel the bond snap four years ago, when you left? You think I didn't spend every night since wondering where you were, if you were safe, if you were-" He cut himself off. His jaw clenched. "You're mine, Lila. You've always been mine. Running didn't change that."

Tears burned my eyes. I blinked them back. "I'm not yours. I'm not anything to you."

"Liar." He said it softly. He leaned in, just a little, and inhaled. His eyes flickered. "You smell like fear. And like..." His voice dropped. "Like arousal."

Heat flooded my face. I wanted to hit him. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to run again.

"You can't keep me here," I whispered.

"Watch me." He stood. "You sleep in my bed tonight."

"What?"

"Forced proximity, Lila. Pack law. Until I decide what to do with you, you don't leave this room. And you don't leave my sight." He walked to the bed and pulled back the covers. "Get in."

I stared at him. "You're insane."

"Probably." He didn't smile. "Get. In."

My wolf was screaming. My human brain was begging me to refuse. But my legs moved. I climbed onto the bed, staying on the far edge, as far from him as possible.

Draven blew out the candles. Darkness swallowed the room. I heard him strip off his shirt, heard the bed dip as he lay down on the other side. A foot of space between us. It felt like nothing.

I lay stiff, staring at the ceiling, listening to him breathe. Slow. Steady. Like he wasn't affected at all. Like I wasn't shaking apart next to him.

"Lila," he said after a long time.

"Don't."

"You ran because of the bond." Not a question.

I didn't answer.

"I should punish you," he said. "For running. For lying. For making me think you were dead."

"Then do it." My voice cracked. "Stop pretending you care."

The bed shifted. His hand brushed my arm in the dark. Just his fingertips, but fire shot through me. I flinched.

"I do care," he said, so quiet I almost didn't hear. "That's the problem."

I turned my face to the wall. Tears slipped down my cheeks. I didn't make a sound.

Behind me, Draven didn't move away. He stayed there, close enough that I could feel his heat, his presence, the bond thrumming between us like a live wire.

I fell asleep dreaming of him at sixteen, shirtless in the training yard, sweat on his skin, eyes on me when he thought I wasn't looking. The night before I ran.

I woke to him watching me.

His grey eyes were dark in the early morning light. He was propped on one elbow, studying my face like he was trying to solve me.

"Good morning, Lila," he said.

I sat up fast, pulling the blanket to my chest. "Don't call me that."

"What should I call you, then? My punishment?"

My stomach twisted. "I hate you."

"No, you don't." He stood, pulling on his shirt. "Pack dinner tonight. You'll come with me."

"I'm not-"

"You are." He looked back at me. "You're mine, Lila. For six months. And everyone in this pack is going to know it."

He left. The door locked behind him.

I pressed my hands to my face and tried not to scream.

My wolf was happy. She thought this was a win. That he wanted me. That the bond was pulling him back.

But I knew better. Draven didn't want me. He wanted control. And I was trapped in his room, in his bed, in his territory, with a bond I couldn't break and a man I couldn't trust.

Six months.

God, how was I going to survive six months with him?

Outside the window, the moon was already starting to wax. Full moon was in two weeks. And I remembered what happened to Draven when the moon was full. His control slipped. His wolf took over.

And last night, for just a second, when he'd leaned close and inhaled my scent, I'd seen it. The hunger in his eyes. The way his hands had flexed, like he wanted to grab me.

He'd stopped himself.

Next time, I wasn't sure he would.

The great hall was louder than I remembered.

The smell of roasted meat and spilled ale hit me the second Draven pushed open the doors. Fifty wolves looked up from their tables. Fifty sets of eyes landed on me.

And on the iron cuff still locked around my wrist.

"Don't lag behind," Draven said, voice low. He didn't look at me. His hand rested on the back of my neck, guiding me forward. Not rough. Not gentle. Just possessive.

My stomach twisted.

The long tables were already full. Wolves eating, laughing, pretending they weren't staring. Marcus sat at the head table beside Draven's empty seat. His eyes narrowed when he saw me.

"Alpha," he said as we approached. "The pack should know she's back."

Draven pulled out his chair and sat. He tugged me down to the seat beside him. Too close. Our thighs touched under the table. I jerked away.

"You're right," Draven said. His voice carried across the hall. The room went quiet.

He stood.

"Lila Hart ran from this pack four years ago," he said. "She broke pack law. She shamed her family."

My face burned. I stared at the table. I didn't dare look up.

"But she's back now," Draven continued. "And for the next six months, she answers to me."

A beat of silence.

Then Marcus leaned back and smirked. "As your what, Alpha? Prisoner?"

Draven's eyes flicked to him. Cold. "As mine."

The word hit like a slap.

Murmurs rippled through the hall. I heard it. Mine. Not prisoner. Not traitor. Mine.

My hands clenched under the table. My wolf whined. She liked that word. She liked him saying it. I hated her for it.

"Sit," Draven said, sitting back down.

I sat.

A plate of food was shoved in front of me. I couldn't eat. My throat was too tight. Every wolf in the room was watching, waiting to see what I'd do.

"Eat," Draven said quietly, just for me.

"I'm not hungry."

"Then you'll answer for it when your wolf gets weak."

I picked up the fork. My hands were shaking. I forced a bite down. It tasted like ash.

Across the table, one of the Betas, Kade, leaned forward. "She doesn't look grateful, Alpha. Maybe she needs more convincing."

Draven didn't even glance at him.

"Careful, Kade."

"Just saying. She ran once. She'll run again."

The cuff on my wrist felt heavier.

I shoved the plate away. "I'm done."

Draven caught my wrist before I could stand. His fingers were warm against my skin. Too warm. Heat shot up my arm, straight to my chest.

"You don't get to walk away," he murmured. "Not yet."

His thumb brushed over my pulse. Once. Twice.

My breath hitched. Stupid body. Stupid bond.

"Alpha," Marcus said, and Draven let go.

Dinner dragged on. I kept my eyes down. I counted the knots in the wooden table. I listened to wolves talk about patrols, about territory disputes, about anything but me. But I felt them looking. Judging.

When the plates were cleared, Draven stood again.

"Pack dismissed," he said.

Chairs scraped. Wolves filed out. No one looked at me directly. But I felt their eyes anyway.

Draven's hand was back on my neck as he led me out.

"Why'd you do that?" I asked once we were in the hall.

"Do what?"

"Claim me. In front of everyone."

He stopped walking. Turned to face me. "Because you're mine, Lila. And I'm done pretending you're not."

My chest tightened. "I'm not-"

"You are." He cut me off. "You can lie to yourself. You can't lie to the bond."

I looked away. "I ran because I had to."

"I know."

His voice was softer now. I risked a glance up. His grey eyes weren't cold anymore. They were tired.

"You think I don't remember?" he said. "You, sixteen, hiding in the rafters of the training yard. Watching me."

My stomach dropped.

"I saw you that day," he continued. "The day before you ran. Shirtless, sweating, and you were there. Bare feet. Breath held. Like if I looked up, you'd disappear."

I didn't answer. My throat had gone dry.

"I wanted to say something," he said. "I didn't."

He turned and kept walking. I followed, my heart pounding.

Back in his room, the door locked behind us.

He didn't speak. He stripped off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves. Then he looked at me.

"First punishment," he said.

I froze. "What?"

"You're going to bathe me."

"What-no."

"Yes." He walked to the basin in the corner, started filling it with water. "Pack law. A mate who runs must serve. Until I say otherwise."

"I'm not your mate."

"You are." He didn't raise his voice. "And you'll do this, or I'll do it for you. Your choice."

My face burned. I crossed my arms.

"Fine."

I grabbed the cloth. Dipped it in the water. My hands were shaking.

Draven sat on the edge of the bed, shirtless. Scars marked his ribs. The new one on his brow. His chest rose and fell with slow breaths.

I stepped closer. Pressed the cloth to his shoulder.

His skin was hot. Too hot. The bond flared between us, bright and aching. My wolf surged. Touch him. Closer.

I dragged the cloth down his arm. My fingers brushed his skin by accident.

He sucked in a breath.

I looked up. His eyes were dark. Fixed on my face. On my mouth.

"You're blushing," he said quietly.

"I'm not-"

"You are." He reached up, caught my wrist. "I can smell it, Lila. Your arousal. Your fear. Everything."

I yanked my hand back. Water splashed on the floor.

"Don't," I whispered.

"Don't what?" He stood. Too close now. "Don't notice you? Don't feel the bond pulling me toward you?"

My back hit the wall. He didn't touch me. But he didn't need to. His presence was enough. Heat, pine, something darker. My wolf was screaming.

"Lila," he said, and my name in his mouth broke something in me.

He leaned in. Just an inch. I could feel his breath on my lips.

Then he pulled back. His jaw clenched. He turned away.

"Enough," he said, voice rough. "Get in bed."

I slid under the covers on my side, as far from him as possible. My heart was racing. My skin still burned where his fingers had touched me.

The bed dipped as he lay down. We didn't speak. Hours later, I woke to him watching me again.

"Can't sleep?" I asked, voice hoarse.

"No," he said. "Full moon's in two weeks. My control's already slipping."

I swallowed. "What does that mean?"

"It means," he said, "if you run again, I'll chain you to this bed. And next time, I won't stop myself."

He turned over. His back to me.

I lay there, staring at the ceiling, and wondered if I was more afraid of him losing control... or of me wanting him to.

Morning came too fast.

I woke to sunlight on my face and Draven's arm caged around my waist.

For a second, I didn't move. His chest was warm against my back. His breath stirred my hair. The bond hummed low under my skin, quiet and dangerous.

Then I remembered where I was.

I shoved his arm off and scrambled to the edge of the bed.

Draven didn't wake. He just rolled onto his back, one arm thrown over his eyes. His shirt had ridden up during the night, showing a strip of skin above his waistband.

I looked away. My face burned.

"Morning," he said, voice rough with sleep. He didn't open his eyes.

"Don't touch me again."

He cracked one eye open. Grey and sharp. "Can't promise that."

Before I could answer, a knock hit the door.

"Alpha," Marcus's voice came through. "The doctor's here for her."

Draven sat up, dragging a hand through his hair. "Send her in."

The door opened and a woman stepped inside. Older, maybe fifty. Grey streaking her dark hair. She carried a leather bag and smelled like herbs and clean linen.

"Alpha," she said, bowing her head. Then she looked at me. "Lila."

I didn't answer.

"I'm Elara," she said. "Pack healer. Draven wants me to check you over. Make sure you're not hurt. Or sick."

"I'm fine."

Elara's eyes softened. "Wolves lie with their mouths, not their bodies. May I?"

I glanced at Draven. He was watching me, jaw tight. "Let her," he said.

I didn't have a choice.

Elara stepped closer. She didn't touch me at first. She just breathed in. Slow. Deliberate.

Her expression changed.

"You've been running," she said. "Not just from the pack. From food. From sleep."

I said nothing.

She moved in and pressed two fingers to my wrist. Not to take my pulse. To smell it.

My stomach dropped.

"Your heart's racing," she murmured. "And you reek of fear. And..." She paused. Her eyes flicked to Draven, then back to me. "Arousal."

Heat flooded my face.

"Elara," Draven warned.

She ignored him. "You should know, Lila, that wolves can smell lies. And we can smell desire. You can't hide either from us. Not from your Alpha."

My blood went cold.

All this time I thought I'd been hiding. Thinking I could lie, could keep my face blank, and no one would know. But they could smell it. Every second in Draven's room, every time the bond flared, every time my body betrayed me-he'd known.

Panic rose in my throat.

"I'm done," I said, pulling my wrist away.

Elara nodded and packed her bag. "You're healthy. Tired. Malnourished. You need to eat."

She left. The door clicked shut.

The room went silent.

Draven stood. He walked to the window, back to me. His shoulders were rigid.

"You should've told me," he said.

"Told you what?" My voice shook. "That you can smell when I want you? That you've been sitting there, knowing, while I-"

I cut myself off.

He turned. His grey eyes were dark. "You think that makes this easier for me?"

"I think you're a liar."

"No." He stepped closer. "I'm a wolf. And you're my mate. The bond doesn't care if you ran. It doesn't care if you hate me. It pulls."

"I don't-"

"Liar."

The word hit like a slap. My wolf flinched.

"I can smell it, Lila," he said, quieter now. "Right now. You're scared, and you're angry, and you want to hit me. And you want..." He stopped. His eyes dropped to my mouth.

I took a step back. My legs hit the bed.

"Don't," I whispered.

The door rattled.

I moved without thinking. To the window. It was high, but not impossible. If I could get it open-

I was halfway across the room when Draven caught me.

His arm locked around my waist, yanking me back. I hit his chest hard.

"Let go!" I thrashed. My nails raked his arm.

He didn't let go. He spun me, pinned me to the wall. His forearm pressed across my chest, holding me there.

"Run again," he said, breathing hard, "and I'll chain you to my bed."

I froze.

His face was inches from mine. His eyes weren't grey anymore. They'd gone black at the edges, wolf rising. The full moon was still two weeks away, but I could feel it in him. The control fraying.

"Lila," he said, and it sounded like a warning. And a plea.

My lips parted. I didn't know if I was going to beg or bite.

He leaned in.

For a second, I thought he'd kiss me. My heart slammed against my ribs. My wolf surged forward, desperate.

Then he jerked back like he'd been burned.

"Dammit," he muttered. He let go of me and stepped away, dragging both hands through his hair. "Get dressed. We're going for a run."

"A run?"

"Before the moon makes me do something stupid." He grabbed a shirt, yanked it on. "And Lila? Don't lie to me again. I'll know."

He left. The door locked behind him.

I slid down the wall to the floor and pressed my hands to my face.

He could smell it. Everything. The fear, the anger, the want I'd spent four years trying to kill.

And the worst part was, part of me wanted him to kiss me.

Part of me wanted to stop running.