Jonah
Her scent clings to me.
It’s been hours since the confrontation in the hallway, but the smell of vanilla and something wild, something I can’t name, is still stuck in the back of my throat. It’s a goddamn infection. My wolf has been pacing inside me ever since, a restless beast rattling the bars of its cage. It wants to find the source of that scent. It wants to claim it.
The urge is so primal, so demanding, it makes me sick. I’ve never felt this lack of control. Not once. Power is control. It’s the first lesson our father ever taught us. And this girl, this stray, has shattered it in a single morning.
I see her across the cafeteria. She’s sitting with Maya, one of the pack’s meekest members. It’s a predictable pairing. The outcast and the omega. My lip curls. She thinks she’s found an ally, a safe harbor. She has no idea what she’s stepped into.
Then Bianca makes her move. Of course she does. She glides across the room like a shark that smells blood, her two little pilot fish trailing in her wake. It’s pathetic. All posturing and petty games. A true Alpha doesn’t need to orchestrate social humiliation. They command respect through presence alone. Bianca has always mistaken fear for respect.
My brother, Caleb, shifts beside me. He sets his fork down with a quiet click. He’s watching too. His whole body is a straight line of tension. I can feel the conflict rolling off him, the same infuriating conflict churning in my own gut.
“She’s making a scene,” he says, his voice low.
“Let her,” I say, taking a bite of my steak. It tastes like ash. “The stray needs to learn her place.”
But even as I say it, the words feel wrong. My wolf snarls in disagreement. It doesn't want her put in her place. It wants her protected. It wants to tear Bianca apart for even looking at her. The violent possessiveness of the thought shocks me. I shove it down, burying it deep.
I watch as Riley stands. She’s small, almost fragile next to Bianca’s practiced confidence. But she doesn’t shrink. She puts her body between Bianca and Maya. A shield. My wolf howls in approval. It’s the stupidest, most reckless thing she could do. And it’s magnificent.
Bianca gives the signal. The little clone with the milk carton moves. Predictable. Boring. I’m about to look away, disgusted by the whole childish display, when I see it.
A foot.
It slides out from a nearby table, a quick, deliberate motion that sends the milk girl flying sideways. The carton explodes against the wall. The cafeteria erupts. Caleb doesn’t even flinch. He just looks at Riley, a flicker of something in his eyes before he schools his expression back to indifference. He gives the guy at the other table the barest hint of a nod.
My jaw clenches. Fury, hot and sharp, lances through me. He interfered. He protected her. He undermined our authority and made Bianca look like a fool, all for a girl we just met. A nobody.
“What was that?” I growl, my voice dangerously quiet.
“What was what?” Caleb asks, picking up his fork again. He cuts a piece of his own steak with surgical precision. The picture of calm. It makes me want to flip the table.
“You know what. Your little puppet show.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says, not looking at me. “Seems like Bianca’s friend is just clumsy.”
He’s a good liar. Always has been. He can mask his scent, control his heartbeat, make his face a perfect blank slate. It’s his strength. Right now, it feels like a betrayal.
Across the room, Riley is looking at our table. Her gaze sweeps past me, landing on Caleb. I see the confusion in her eyes, the dawning awareness. She knows. She knows he did it. And I see that flicker of warmth she directs at him. The same warmth I felt from her in the hallway. Directed at him. Not at me.
My wolf rears up, snarling with a jealousy so fierce it takes my breath away.
I stand abruptly, the legs of my chair scraping against the floor. “I’m done.”
I stalk out of the cafeteria without a backward glance. I need to hit something. Hard.
The weight room in our house is my sanctuary. It smells of iron and sweat, honest smells that cut through the lingering ghost of vanilla. I load the bar with more weight than I should, the cold steel a welcome shock to my system. I need the burn. I need the pain to crowd out everything else.
One rep. The image of her defiant eyes in the hallway flashes behind my eyelids.
Two reps. Her scent, a phantom on the air.
Three reps. The way she looked at Caleb.
“You’re going to tear a muscle.”
Caleb’s voice cuts through the haze of my anger. He’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking infuriatingly calm. He’s changed into workout clothes, but he looks like he just stepped out of a magazine. Not a drop of sweat on him.
“Leave me alone,” I grunt, pushing the bar up again. My muscles scream in protest.
“You’re angry.”
“Brilliant observation,” I snap, letting the weight crash back onto the rack. I sit up, my chest heaving. “What do you want, Caleb?”
“I want to know what your problem is.” He walks into the room, his movements smooth and controlled. Everything about him is controlled.
“My problem? My problem is that my brother has gone soft. Undermining Bianca in front of the entire school? Siding with a complete stranger? What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that public humiliation is a weak tactic. It makes us look like bullies, not Alphas,” he says, his voice even. “It was a strategic move to maintain a certain image.”
“Image?” I scoff, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat from my face. “Don’t give me that strategic crap. You did it for her.”
The name hangs in the air between us, unspoken but deafening. Riley.
Caleb’s jaw tightens. It’s the first crack in his perfect composure. “This has nothing to do with her. It has to do with your recklessness. You cornered her in the hall like a common thug. You put us on display. I was just cleaning up your mess.”
“My mess?” I take a step toward him, my fists clenching at my sides. “I was establishing dominance. Something you’ve clearly forgotten how to do. She disrespected us. She needed to be reminded of her place.”
“And what place is that, Jonah?” he challenges, his blue eyes turning hard as ice. “Beneath our boot? Is that the kind of leader you want to be? One that rules by fear alone?”
“It works.”
“It’s shortsighted. And it’s not what Father taught us.”
“Don’t you dare bring him into this.” We’re circling each other now, two predators in a cage. The air is thick with ozone, with the promise of violence. “This isn’t about Father. This is about you. You’ve been off since she arrived. I can smell it on you. You reek of it.”
“Reek of what?” he asks, his voice dangerously low.
“Confusion. Weakness. You look at her and your wolf rolls over like a submissive pup.” The accusation is ugly, and I know it. But I can’t stop myself.
Caleb stops circling. He looks at me, and for a second, the mask is gone. I see a flash of raw fury in his eyes that matches my own. “You should look in a mirror before you talk about submissive pups, brother. Your wolf has been howling since the moment she walked through the school doors. You can barely keep it on its leash. Don’t pretend your aggression is about dominance. It’s about panic. She unnerves you because you can’t control the way you feel.”
His words hit their mark. It’s true. Every last one of them. And hearing it from him, from my calm and collected twin, is like a lit match on gasoline.
“You don’t know anything about what I feel,” I snarl, shoving him hard in the chest.
He stumbles back a step, surprised by the physical contact. Then his own anger flares. He shoves me back, harder. “I know you’re letting some girl we don’t even know tear a rift between us. I know you’d rather start a fight with me than admit what’s really going on.”
“Nothing is going on!” I roar, the sound echoing off the walls. “She’s a stray. A distraction. And you’re a fool if you think she’s anything more.”
“Then why can’t you stop thinking about her?” he shoots back, his voice rising for the first time. “Why does her scent drive you crazy? It’s the same for me, Jonah! Admit it!”
Silence. We stand there, chests heaving, the truth finally laid bare. It’s a relief and a torment all at once. We are both caught in the same invisible trap. This shared, inexplicable fascination.
I can’t give him the satisfaction of agreeing. My pride won’t let me.
“Stay away from her,” I say, my voice a low command. It’s not about pack politics anymore. It’s not about dominance. It’s a raw, possessive instinct I can’t explain.
Caleb’s eyes narrow. “You don’t give me orders.”
“I’m telling you, Caleb. For your own good. She’s trouble. And I will deal with her.”
“Deal with her how? By scaring her out of town? Is that your grand plan?” he scoffs.
“Whatever it takes,” I say, the words feeling like a vow.
He just shakes his head, a look of profound disappointment on his face. “You’re wrong about this. You’re wrong about her.”
He turns and walks away, leaving me alone in the oppressive silence of the weight room. His final words hang in the air, a challenge I can’t ignore.
My anger cools, leaving behind a cold, heavy dread. He’s right. About all of it. The girl is an intrusion, an unwanted complication that has turned my world, and my bond with my brother, upside down in less than a day.
I sink down onto the bench, the weight of it all pressing down on me, heavier than any iron bar. One thing is clear. This isn’t just about a new girl anymore.
This is a war. And the first battle line has just been drawn right through my own house.
