Chapter 3: Caught in the Web

The dorm stirred loudly that morning. Yells echoed down the hallway, doors slamming as students rushed to class. Jake paced back and forth in front of his desk, socks rubbing against the scratched wood floor. The room smelled of coffee—Zane had brewed a pot and left a cracked mug on Jake's desk, steam curling up. Jake ignored it, arms folded tight. Sunlight streamed through the window, cutting sharp lines across the pale walls. Outside, the forest was still, pines dark against the bright blue sky, but the air indoors was thick, as if it was holding its breath.

Zane leaned back in his chair, legs up on his bed, spinning a sock balled up in the air. "Still jittery from that dream?" he teased, voice playful and joking. The sock landed on the floor near Jake's feet, gray and worn, with a faint whiff of Zane's cologne on it.

Jake brushed it aside, frowning. "Leave it alone." His cheeks burned with the memory of Zane's laughter last night still stinging. Zane grinned even wider, catching the sock flying in mid-air on its second toss. His silver hair glimmered in the sunlight, uncombed and tousled, and his green eyes sparkled as if he knew something.

"Jumpy today," Zane answered, stretching back. "You're going to be needing that coffee more than I knew." He nodded towards the mug, which still clung to a haze of steam. The dorm hummed behind them—pipes crashed against walls, someone's music thumped dully through the floor. Jake's stomach clenched. Zane was too relaxed, too close, and it jarred his brain.

Before he could shake himself out of it, the door swung open. Mia was standing there, short black hair disheveled, brown eyes slicing. She strode in, boots hitting the floor hard, and sniffed. "This him?" she demanded, crossing her arms. Her gaze sliced to Zane, questioning. "He smells like Max's pack. What's up, Jake?"

Jake's heart skipped. He stepped between them, hands up. "Nothing. He's just my roommate." His voice shook, as fragile as paper, and Mia's scowl thickened. She leaned her head, sniffing once more, as if she could smell the deception. Zane's brow furrowed but he remained silent, sipping his coffee slow and steady. The mug clicked against his teeth, a faint sound in the charged room.

"Lisa's coming tomorrow," Mia declared, poking her finger into Jake's chest. "Hope she doesn't catch a whiff of him on you." Low and ominous, warning him away. She spun on the heels of black shoes, coat flapping behind her, and stomped off. The door slammed shut behind her, shaking in its frame. Jake rubbed the place where his pulse pounded against the fabric. Mia was too nosy—she'd dig until she found trouble, and Lisa'd burn the whole block if she heard about Zane.

"She's nice," Zane said to him, grinning above his cup. "Your sister?"

"Cousin," Jake groaned, falling onto his bed. The mattress creaked under him, springs poking through the surface. He glared at the ceiling, paint peeling away in tiny pieces. A bird's chirp pierced the air, sudden and brief, then it was silent. The woods lay outside the window, black and waiting.".

Night fell slow, shadows stretching long across the dorm. The stars popped out, bright against the black sky, and the room settled into a quiet hum. Jake sat cross-legged on his bed, laptop balanced on his knees. He couldn’t stop himself—he opened a chat app, fingers shaking, and made a fake profile. “Luna.” He found Zane’s name, heart thudding, and typed, “Hey, you’re cute.”

Zane’s phone pinged across the room. He grabbed it, sprawling on his bed, and grinned at the screen. “You’re not bad yourself,” he typed back. “What’s your deal?” Jake bit his lip, giddy, and sent, “You’re hot.” Zane chuckled, replying, “You’re making me blush.” The flirting went fast—Jake’s fingers flew, Zane’s laugh filled the air. The dorm felt alive, buzzing with their secret game.

Then Zane typed, “Be my girlfriend. Let’s meet.” Jake froze, breath catching. His screen glowed, the words staring back. He typed quick, “I’ve got a fever,” and slammed the laptop shut, chest tight. Zane looked up, frowning, silver hair falling into his eyes.

Your fever, he stated, taking three swift strides across the room. He pressed the palm of his hand against Jake's forehead, hot and calloused. Jake's face grew red, the touch jolting beneath his skin. "Just now," he growled, pulling away. Zane's eyes slitted, as if he could read right through the lie, but he did not push.

The door burst open again—Mia, beautiful and terrible timing. She stood there, mouth set, fists on her hips. Zane's hand was still over Jake's face, too close. "What is this?" she snarled, coming inside. Her boots tracked dirt across the floor, and her voice was acid.

Zane released his hand, stepping toward her. "Relax," he said to him, but Jake's legs shook. He couldn't move, couldn't speak. Zane stepped closer to him, voice dropping low. "I knew it was you on-line. I like you." Without Jake even having time to think, Zane kissed him—hard, quick, shocking. His lips were warm, with a trace of coffee, and Jake's entire world was spinning. He kissed back for a moment, then jumped away, shocked.

Mia gasped, loud and sharp. “Lisa’s gonna kill you!” she yelled. “I’m telling her everything!” She bolted, vowing to spill it all, her footsteps pounding down the hall. Jake’s knees wobbled, the kiss still burning on his lips. Zane grabbed his arm, steadying him. “We’re fine,” he said, but his voice was tight, green eyes flickering with worry.

Hours ticked on, the dorm quiet again. Jake paced beside his bed, fingers through his hair, living it over again—Mia's ultimatum, Zane's kiss. Walls narrowed in, the air thick. Zane paced past the window, silver hair catching moonlight. "She won't do it," he said under his breath, but not to Jake. But Jake knew Mia—she'd go directly to Lisa.

The door came crashing open at midnight. Lisa charged in, red hair unbrushed, eyes blazing like hot coals. "No gay son of mine!" she roared, grabbing Jake's shirt. Her nails dug in, hard through the material, and shook him brutally. "What's this I hear from Mia?"

Jake came loose, reeling backward. "Mom, I—" His voice stumbled, nonsensical. Before he could utter another word, Max burst in, enormous and thundering, dragging a girl behind him. Long, blond hair shining, claws glinting at her hips—Lena. Max's black head was sweaty, scarred face snarling. "She's your mate, Zane!" he bellowed, shoving Lena forward. "Commanded by the pack!

Zane stepped forward, chin up. "I don't want her. I love Jake." His voice was hard, green eyes locked on Max. Lisa's lips parted, her hand on Jake releasing—not just gay, but with Max's son. She spat, "You traitor." Max's face twisted, a growl rising in his chest. "Lena makes it right," he growled, nodding towards her. Lena smiled, eyes darting to Jake, cold and hungry.

Lisa glared at Jake one last time, then turned to Max. “Deal with your boy. I’ll handle mine.” They stormed out, Lena trailing behind, her gold hair swaying. The door slammed, shaking the walls. Jake’s legs gave out, and he sank to the floor, breath ragged. Zane knelt beside him, gripping his hand. “We’ll fight this,” he said, voice fierce, but his fingers trembled.

The dorm fell silent, their breathing and the vibration of night. Jake stared out the window—stars shone bright, hard and far. Then a cry tore across the air, thin and wolflike, right under their noses. He lurched to the glass, Zane beside him. Lena stood down in the night, claws glowing, golden hair flying behind her. She glanced up, gaze locked on Jake, a promise in her eyes. She's coming for me," Jake panted, heart thudding against his ribs. The trees soaked up her howl, but the threat was still there, cutting like a knife.