Chapter 12 - Linnea

Aris's grip on my wrist is iron-clad, but I can barely feel it as he drags me back through the clearing to the big cabin. I think back to the way he'd looked at me when he came bursting through the door, his eyes practically black, darting immediately to my hand. I'd hidden it behind my back as though that would fix the problem.

Right after he commanded that I stay in the cabin, I'd thrown the covers off, pacing around the room. As a non-shifter, my sense of smell is nowhere near what it could be, but I could still sense Aris everywhere in the cabin, smell that familiar pine scent lingering around the couch and on the pillows.

Frustrated, I'd thrown myself back into bed, staring up at the ceiling again.

I thought about how he'd been watching me this morning, of that dream where he was behind me, hips pressed to mine. I close my eyes and picture what might have happened if that dream hadn't been interrupted, how he would have moved my panties to the side, slipping inside me.

Would he have groaned at the feeling? Shifted his hips to hit me deeper?

Before I realized what I was doing, I was wiggling my fingers under the waistband of my underwear. I was wet from thinking about him.

I pictured his hand coming around, covering my mouth, pulling my head back into his as he rocked into me, his other hand gripping my hip and pulling me back, closer, adjusting me so he could fill me completely.

"Aris," I whispered, as I came completely undone, writhing along in the bed.

As soon as it was over, I felt an intense wave of shame and embarrassment wash over me. Fantasizing about Aris? The guy who made my life a living hell, who insulted my appearance every day, made me so uncomfortable in my skin that I could barely breathe when I was at school?

The worst part was that even after touching myself, my body still ached. For him.

I rolled onto my stomach, buried my face in the pillow, and screamed. I did not want him. Not anywhere near me, not naked around me, and certainly not inside me.

Except that I did.

I thought of him that morning, standing at the edge of the bed, looking so sleepy and yet still so confident, telling me I was to stay in the cabin. Bossing me around like I was one of the people on his team, like I answered to him.

To my dismay, I felt a rush of desire at the thought of him telling me what to do.

Bend over, I imagined him saying, his eyes burning like they had been that morning. Goosebumps prickled over my skin, and I put the backs of my hands to my eyes, trying to calm down.

I decided I couldn't stay in the cabin any longer. Getting up, I pulled my leggings back on, clipped my bra in place, and finger-combed my hair the best I could before tying it back up.

Outside, the sun was shining and birds were hopping around, twittering and poking the ground. A cool breeze rolled through and I crossed my arms over my chest. There was nobody around, and I remembered what Byron had said to Aris: We got the commander on in five.

They must have been having a meeting. About Varun? About what they were planning to do next? I darted across the clearing, coming to a stop outside Byron's cabin and hearing voices inside.

"What's the ETA on the backup?" I heard Aris ask.

"I'll be in touch to let you know." A voice came through a small speaker, sounding staticky and old.

With a rush, I could feel Aris's frustration at the situation. I wondered if he was thinking about what to do with me, and I raised a hand to my throat, leaning closer to the door to try and hear what they were saying. Aris gave out instructions, telling Eva to get me some clothes in the next town. I wanted to speak up and ask for a brush and some conditioner, but I couldn't let Aris know I had directly disobeyed his instructions already. If I moved fast enough, I could make it back to the cabin before he ever found out I left.

"You got it," I heard Percy's bright voice come through, then Eva's.

"Highly trained weapon of death, and I am sent to a fucking Walmart."

"It's just for now," Aris said. "Trust me, I don't want to be here any more than you do."

I took a step back, away from the door for a moment. Obviously, Aris didn't actually want anything to do with me. It was exhausting to have to remind myself of that over and over again, every time I started to think he might be different.

I moved my hand against my throat, and it went quiet inside the cabin before Aris spoke again, his voice strained.

"Ado, you're back on the perimeter."

Suddenly, the door flew open, and Ado stepped through, his eyes cooly meeting mine. They were gray and unmoved, and I stood completely still, wondering if he was going to tell Aris what I was doing.

Ado just looked away from me, continuing his march to the perimeter of the clearing. I wanted to let out a sigh of relief, but I knew that would give me away.

"Don't stare at me, Man," I heard Aris say.

"You can't go on like this," Bigby said, his gruff voice coming through the walls with ease. "I know you think you're hot shit, but even you can't resist nature, pure and simple."

I flushed, thinking about resisting nature and what I had been imagining just moments ago in the bed.

"Fuck you." Aris sounded genuinely upset. Of course, he would hate the idea of his body wanting me when he didn't. I could relate.

Bigby laughed, then went suddenly quiet.

"What—"

"That explains it," Bigby said.

"Get out of here," Aris said, his voice suddenly full of anger and haste. I took a step back from the door, wondering if I should book it to the big cabin.

"You don't have to tell me twice," Bigby said, and then, suddenly, Aris was standing in front of me, his eyes pure fire.

Now, Aris slams the door of the cabin behind him after dragging us both inside. The inside of the cabin is shockingly dim compared to the clearing, and I have to blink several times to adjust my eyes.

When I can finally see, Aris is standing a foot away, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling quickly. Now he's wearing a soft gray hoodie, and I'm jealous that he and his team brought extra clothes with them. I wish I had something to change into.

"I told you not to leave the cabin," Aris says through his teeth, his eyes trained on me like I might disappear if he looks away for even a moment.

I cross my arms, which immediately draws his eyes down to my chest. If it's possible, his eyes darken even further.

"Do you understand that this is torture for me?" he asks, his voice lower than I've ever heard it. He closes his eyes, bringing his hands to his temples.

"Don't be dramatic—" I start to say, but he takes a sudden step forward, his eyes flying open and his hands twitching like he wants to reach out and touch me. My body reacts to him immediately, warmth pooling at my center, urging me to step into him.

"Who were you thinking about?" he asks, his voice still barely above a gruff whisper.

"What?"

"Who—" Aris pauses, swallowing hard, then he glances deliberately down at my hand. "Who were you thinking about?"

I feel the flush cover my cheeks, all the way down to my toes. My entire body is hot with embarrassment. There's no way I can admit to him that I was thinking about him, but if what he's feeling is even a fraction of what I am, he probably already knows the answer. He knows that I've been thinking about him nonstop since I first saw him in that bar. Since prom night. Since before that, if I'm being honest about it.

Aris's face darkens, and I realize there's a tinge of jealousy and rage in his expression that increases with every second I stay quiet. Does he really think it would even be possible for me to think about anyone but him right now?

Is he thinking about someone else?

A sudden, unexpected burst of intense jealousy and possessiveness courses through my body. Aris can't be thinking about another woman because he belongs to me. He's mine. If he's thinking about anyone else, I'll find them and ensure they're no longer an option.

The violence and intensity of the feelings shock me. It's so unlike me, driven by something deep I've never felt before, but that also feels like it's always been an integral part of me.

"Who do you think?" I ask, my voice so quiet for a moment I'm not sure he can hear me.

"God, Linnea," he rasps, moving toward me again but still not touching me. "I want you so badly to say it's me. It's been—I can't think straight. I don't trust myself around you."

My eyes widen. High school Linnea would have melted to the floor hearing this, but adult Linnea knows better. I take the tiniest step back from him, though my body screams in protest.

"Linnea," he says, his voice pained. "I would never hurt you. I won't touch you unless—unless you want me to."

We stand like that, breathing heavily, staring at each other, the cabin filled with the sound of our gasps and the heavy sexual tension. When enough time passes and I don't answer him, he nods once, turning, though it looks like the most painful thing he's ever done.

"Okay," he says, choked. "I have to get out of here. Stay—just please stay in the cabin, Linnea. I'm so serious. We should be safe from the rogues up here, but if they do somehow find us through the scent masking, you won't be able to protect yourself if you can't shift."

The desire stays, constant, under everything, but rage rises to the surface.

"Are you ever going to let that go?" I snap, and Aris turns back to me, pulling his hand off the doorknob, surprise written over his face.

"What?"

I think about high school, all the jabs and jokes about how I couldn't shift. About my parents being disappointed. That I was probably adopted.

"That I can't shift. Just because I can't doesn't mean I'm not just as much a part of this community as you."

"I never—"

"You may come from the alpha family and have this huge mansion and be the leader of a special ops team, but you're not better than me, Aris."

"I didn't—"

"Yes, you did! That's why you rejected me in high school. That's why you claimed we weren't mates, even though you could feel it, too! You left me here. You don't think I'm as good as you. That's why you constantly put me down in high school."

Suddenly, Aris is in front of me, crowding me into the wall, and despite myself, I lean into him. He hisses at the feeling of my chest against his, and I have to work not to draw my hands up his back.

"Listen," he says, closing his eyes and dropping his head to the crook of my neck. "It's not an excuse. I know that. And I wish I could go back and change the way I was. But the truth is that—the truth is that I wanted you, Linnea, before prom night. Before we kissed. I thought about you every single fucking day. And I hated it because I knew my dad would want me with some other girl, someone who could shift, someone from a higher family in the pack."

"You bullied me because you liked me," I deadpan, staring at him, unbelieving. Remembering his ruthlessness, there's just no way it's true.

"Yes," he says, pained, lifting his head so his lips are just a breath away from mine. "I hated myself, but I never hated you. You were always there, constantly, in the back of my head."

"You felt it. Prom night."

"Of course I felt it."

"But you rejected me anyway."

"And I will do anything to make up for it, Linnea."

"Anything?" I ask, my body thrumming, my head light, full of the scent of him. He meets my eyes, his pupils so wide and dark it's like they're swallowing me whole. As softly as I can, I press my hips against his, feeling his erection against me, harder and bigger than I imagined in my dream. He hisses, and I feel it against my lips. His are so close.

"Anything," he says, then he leans forward and takes my lips with his.