Dinner was an exercise in torture.
Mum had cooked salmon and asparagus, filling the kitchen with savory aromas that should have made my mouth water. Instead, I pushed the food around my plate, acutely aware of the predator sitting next to me.
Liam ate with a focused intensity, but his knee brushed against mine under the table every few minutes. Each contact sent a fresh wave of that addictive, humming warmth through my leg, making it impossible to focus on Mum's endless chatter.
"So, Prom is coming up," Mum announced, her voice too bright. She looked between us, her eyes gleaming with matchmaking intent. "Luna, have you sorted out your plans?"
I choked on a spear of asparagus, coughing violently. Liam's hand was instantly on my back, rubbing soothing circles that felt like brands against my spine.
"Two weeks," I managed to rasp, reaching for my water.
"Has anyone asked you?" Mum pressed.
"Ehh..." I hesitated. Beside me, Liam went still. The hand on my back stopped moving. "There were a few offers. But I think I'll just go with Levi."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
"Levi?" Liam's voice was a low, dangerous rumble. He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. "You aren't going with him."
I stiffened, shooting him a glare while elbowing him sharply in the ribs. He didn't even flinch.
Mum, oblivious or willfully ignorant, cleared the table with Dad's help, shooing us out of the kitchen. "Go on, you two. Get out of my hair."
Liam didn't wait. He grabbed my hand and led me upstairs to his room.
It was strange seeing it now. Most of his furniture was gone, moved to his new apartment in the city. The room felt hollow, echoing with the ghosts of the boy he used to be. He walked straight to the window, sliding the sash up and stepping out onto the small balcony.
He leaned back in, extending a hand. "Coming?"
It was a challenge. A throwback. Since we were kids, the roof had been our sanctuary. Our fortress of solitude against parental lectures and bad grades. We hadn't been up there in years.
I hesitated only a second before taking his hand.
We scrambled up the trellis and onto the slanted roof, settling into the familiar groove between the gables. The view was spectacular. Being on the outskirts of the city, away from the light pollution, the sky was a canvas of velvet black scattered with diamonds. The Black Hill forest loomed in the distance, a dark, silent sentinel.
I lay back against the shingles, letting my hair fan out around me. Liam sat beside me, his long legs stretched out, hands behind his head.
A shiver raked through me as the wind picked up. Before I could wrap my arms around myself, Liam was moving. He stripped off his leather jacket, leaving him in just a black t-shirt that clung to his chest.
"Here," he said, draping the heavy weight over me.
"You'll freeze," I protested, though I instantly snuggled into the leather.
"I run hot," he dismissed.
I pulled the collar up, inhaling deeply. It smelled like him-concentrated. Peppermint, pine, and the musk of a wild animal. It was intoxicating.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice cutting through the wind.
"The pain," I asked quietly. "How long will it last? The separation anxiety?"
He turned to look at me. "Three days? A week? It depends."
"Depends on what?"
"On how stubborn you are. On how quickly you accept the bond."
I chewed on my lip. "Liam... will I turn? Because you bit me?"
He looked at me, his brow furrowing. "Turn?"
" into a wolf. Or a zombie. Or get rabies."
He stared at me for a beat, dead serious, before a laugh burst out of him. It was a rich, raspy sound that made my heart do a traitorous flip.
"I am not a dog, Luna," he chuckled, shaking his head. "And for the record, don't ever call us dogs in front of the others. Jack gets really sensitive about it."
I smiled, watching him. The moonlight softened the sharp angles of his face, making him look less like the Alpha and more like the boy I grew up with. But the tension underlying the moment was entirely new.
"What?" he whispered, his laughter fading. He was watching me watch him.
"Nothing," I breathed, looking back up at the stars. "Just... the view. It's beautiful. I forgot how much I missed this."
"Yeah," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. "Nothing beats this view."
I turned my head. He wasn't looking at the sky. He was looking at me.
His gaze was heavy, heated, traveling over my face like he was memorizing it. The air between us crackled, charged with that strange biological magnetism he kept talking about.
He moved closer.
My breath hitched. I could see the golden flecks in his eyes, the dark fan of his lashes against his cheekbones. He smelled of night and danger.
"Luna," he whispered.
It was a warning. A question. A plea.
Then he closed the distance.
His lips crashed onto mine.
It wasn't a gentle, tentative first kiss. It was an explosion. A jolt of pure electricity surged from my lips straight to my toes, making my back arch off the roof. His hand tangled in my hair, the other cupping my jaw, holding me steady as he devoured me.
For eighteen years, he had been my brother. But in this moment, with his mouth moving against mine, hot and demanding, that reality shattered. He didn't kiss like a brother. He kissed like a man starving.
He pulled back just an inch, both of us gasping for air. His forehead rested against mine.
"Wow," he breathed, his voice wrecked.
He stared at me, his eyes wide and dark, pupils blown. He looked stunned, like he hadn't quite believed it would be like this. A slow, predatory smile curved his lips.
"I should have done that a long time ago," he growled.
"Yeah," I whispered, my brain short-circuiting.
"Wow," he said again, softer this time.
And then he kissed me again. Deeper. Using his tongue to taste me, claiming my mouth the way he had claimed my skin.
And God help me, I let him.
Light assaulted my eyelids.
I groaned, trying to burrow deeper into the warmth. My bed felt impossibly comfortable, like a cloud I never wanted to leave. I squeezed the bolster pillow next to me, sliding my hand up...
Wait.
My bolster was hard. And warm. And it had muscles.
My eyes snapped open.
"Morning, Luna."
The voice was a rumble of gravel and sleep. I looked up to find Liam watching me.
He was propped up against my headboard, shirtless, the sheet pooling at his waist. His hair was a chaotic mess, and his eyes were heavy-lidded.
I scrambled backward, nearly falling off the bed. "Liam!"
"Easy," he chuckled, reaching out to steady me. His skin was scorching hot against my arm.
"What are you doing in my bed?" I demanded, clutching the duvet to my chest. "When did you... how did..."
"You fell asleep on the roof," he said, rubbing a hand over his face. He looked effortlessly, annoyingly perfect. "I carried you in."
"So you just decided to stay?"
He shrugged, a lazy grin spreading across his face. "I told you. Separation anxiety. Besides..." He looked at the pillow I had been cuddling. "You didn't seem to mind a few minutes ago."
