Chapter 4

KASMINE.

I decided to prepare breakfast for us to eat. It was a weekend, and Kester said he'd be home all day. I thought it wise to prepare his favorite meal.

"Breakfast is served," I said with a grin when he descended the stairs.

He was casually dressed in a way I hadn't seen him in a long time. Whenever he visited home, he was always formally dressed, as expected, as the Alpha.

Seeing him in his grey sweatpants and black singlet made me remember those days when he still lived with us back at home.

He looked gorgeous, I must say.

His short, black hair was neatly combed with just a few careless strands falling just above the crease of his brows.

His lick-worthy Adam's apple bobbed when his pink lips curved into a small smile.

"Mine," He called, and I couldn't help the warmth that spread across my cheeks at the way he called me – so intentional, so personal.

"You know you'll have to stop calling me that soon, right?" I teased, knowing he hated to hear that.

A small frown appeared on his face, but it disappeared instantly, replaced by a scoff, "Why?" He asked, taking a seat.

"You'll be getting married soon. How do you think June would feel when you call me that?" I served our meal and sat down to eat, but I noticed his countenance had turned sour. "Is everything okay?" I asked.

He leaned back in his seat, slowly fondling with the fork in his hand while staring into nothing. His grip on the fork tightened, and it got me... Worried.

"Kes?" I called cautiously, wondering if my jokes had gone too far.

Kes had always had a history of anger. He had always had a little bit of a temper problem, but Dad helped him fix it with the help of therapy and support.

But that didn't mean the possibility of him snapping at any moment should be ruled out.

"Kes?" I called a little firmer this time, and he slowly shifted his gaze toward me, "What's wrong?" My heart was already racing. He got me scared.

"Nothing, Mine. Let's eat." He said so calmly that it scared me. His countenance returned to normal as if everything was fine.

I was tempted to insist on knowing what had just happened, but for the sake of peace and my sanity, I kept quiet, and we ate the rest of the meal quietly.

Every time I attempted to trust him again, he just... Goes off and... And scares me.

Right now, sitting in the sitting room and watching a movie with him left me a bit uncomfortable. He didn't let me return to my room after breakfast. He insisted we watched a movie he'd been dying to watch together.

The movie pulled me in only half-heartedly as my thoughts swirled around the man sitting beside me.

I reluctantly sat back and watched with him while he placed my legs on his thighs, fondling and massaging them – something that used to seem normal to me once upon a time... But not anymore. I was as uncomfortable as fuck.

He was so engrossed in the movie that he seemed to have forgotten I was sitting right next to him. Sometimes, I wonder what goes on in his mind. He always seemed so detached and deep in thought.

I shifted slightly on the couch, my legs still draped over his thigh as he massaged my calves with firm, intentional motions. I wanted to be anywhere but here, trapped in this heated tension. Moreover, it was already 11:00 am. I had promised to call Jake and it was already time. He would be waiting for my call already.

Poor Jake.

I was able to talk with him last night, and we spoke at length. I couldn't deny the feelings blossoming between us already. It warmed my heart.

Jake was a great guy. He was everything I needed in a man. I impatiently awaited the day he would officially ask me to be his girlfriend. I won't hesitate to say yes.

My attention snapped back to the TV screen when the scene shifted — a couple locked in a slow, heated kiss. They were in a dimly lit bedroom, and I was certain what would happen next in the scene.

My breath caught in my throat, and every sweet thought about Jake came to a screeching halt, shoved into a corner by the heat flooding my cheeks. I chanced a glance at Kester, hoping he wasn't paying attention. But he was.

In fact, the kind of attention he paid to the scene made my heart race.

It suddenly felt like we were intruding on something we weren't supposed to.

He watched like the man on the screen wasn't just some actor anymore — but him.

He watched like it was his hands stripping the woman down with his mouth claiming her throat.

Like the scene had stopped being fiction and had twisted into something far more intimate.

Like he wasn't just seeing what was happening but feeling it.

Like the bed in that dim room was suddenly our couch.

And the heat between them…Was ours.

And for one frightening, burning second…

It felt like we were the ones on that screen.

My skin prickled from the terrifying thought that maybe, just maybe… he was imagining something he shouldn't.

And that thought alone made my stomach twist in a way I didn't have a name for.

The woman trembled as the man peeled her dress off, sweeping her off the floor in his muscular arms, and made his way to the bed.

I swallowed hard.

No. I couldn't watch such a scene with my big brother.

I looked away quickly, my throat dry, and tried to pull my legs off his lap. I needed space. Distance. Oxygen. Anything else but this.

But his hand firmly clamped down on my ankle, holding me in place.

"Relax," he murmured, his gaze sliding toward me with a frightening kind of calm, his voice almost soothing but laced with something really dark. "It's just a movie, Mine."

That name again.

The way he said it this time was enough to send a shiver down my spine. It felt like possession. Like heat licking across the back of my neck, wrapping around my ribs and pulling tight.

I laughed nervously, my voice cracking slightly. "I know. It's just… uhm... I need to use the bathroom." I lied, but he only smiled.

"Lies." He said simply.

His forest green eyes had darkened — more shadow than color now, and the tension in his face wasn't subtle anymore. It felt like he was holding something back.

His fingers resumed their slow movements, drawing circles along the bare skin of my calf. His touch was featherlight and almost innocent — but for each stroke he gave, my stomach twisted even tighter. "You're too tense," he murmured, his gaze almost boring a hole in my face. "You should learn to let go."

The heat in my face spread to the rest of my body. I stared blankly at the coffee table, refusing to meet his eyes. The scene on the screen grew more intimate. The moans were louder now with the sounds of ragged breathing, muffled groans, and ecstatic moans filling the room. The woman cried out with such abandon that it made me squirm.

No... I couldn't.

It was all too much.

I tried to shift again, determined to get my legs off his grip, but in my nervous fumbling, the heel of my foot brushed against something hard beneath his briefs.

I froze.

What...?

My heart thundered in my chest as realization dawned on me. The way his body stiffened immediately told me all I needed to know.

He was hard.

My gaze snapped immediately, and I looked up at him in shock, my eyes locking onto his lustful, unreadable ones. His eyes weren't just unreadable. They pressed. They burned. Hot, deep, dragging over me like a hand that didn't need to touch to own. I felt stripped beneath them — like he saw through my very soul.

"Kasmine..." He growled, his eyes changing to a blinding shade of red.

It was his wolf.

That unreadable look was gone. Now, his eyes devoured me. They stripped me bare.

"Oh my God—Kester!" I shrieked, yanking my legs away, stumbling to my feet so fast I almost fell over myself, running up the stairs like my life depended on it.

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