Chapter 5 ~ 5

Chapter 5

~ Chris ~

My phone buzzed against the nightstand, a harsh, rhythmic rattle that cut through the silence of my room. I reached out lazily, keeping my eyes half-shut as the screen illuminated my face.

Hay.

I let out a heavy, theatrical sigh. What does the puppy want now?

Ever since prom, she’d been a non-stop storm of frantic energy—clingy, insecure, and constantly begging for reassurance. I unlocked the screen, fully expecting a three-page essay apologizing for her frumpy dress or crying about why I’d left her to take an Uber home while I went out for "guy’s night."

Instead, a single media notification loaded.

I tapped it.

My breath hitched. My chest tightened so violently it felt like a silver blade had been driven through my sternum.

It was a selfie.

And standing right behind Hay—his arm hovering dangerously close to her shoulder in that sleek, absurdly expensive garage—was Drake Fletcher.

My worst nightmare. My fiercest rival.

Drake had that insufferable, subtle smirk plastered across his face, his cold blue eyes staring straight through the lens like he was looking right into my soul. He knew exactly what he was doing. He was holding my girlfriend’s phone, invading my territory, and slapping my face with it.

My fingers dug into the aluminum edges of the phone so hard the metal groaned under my strength.

What the fuck is this? I typed back, my thumb slamming into the screen.

Not ten seconds later, the photo vanished from the chat.

‘I'm so sorry! Drake grabbed my phone, it happened so fast! Chris, I swear!’

 Her text came flying in, frantic and pathetic, terrified of losing me.

‘Okay.’ I responded. 

I tossed the phone face-down onto the mattress and dragged both hands through my hair, a low, murderous growl vibrating deep in my chest.

The phone didn't stop. It buzzed relentlessly against the sheets. Short bursts, long vibrations, call notifications. I didn't even need to look to know what was happening—Hay was spiraling.

‘Chris, please, say something!’

‘He forced me, he snatched it out of my hand!’

‘Are you mad at me? Please answer me…’

‘Chris, please call me back!’

I scuffed the heel of my boot against the floorboards, the blood in my veins burning abnormally hot. I wasn't just annoyed—I was utterly violent.

Drake Fletcher wasn't just some rich transfer student trying to steal my spot as hockey captain. He was a Keback. His entire family belonged to a pack of ruthless, territory-stealing scum who had slithered into Hermes City.

This city was Geom land. It belonged to my pack. My uncle, the local Beta, had made it crystal clear: the Fletchers were a disease.

And now, Jonathan Fletcher had seduced Hay’s mother, setting up a rushed marriage that left the Keback Alpha’s son and my girlfriend trapped under the exact same roof. Unsupervised. For two whole weeks.

My wolf thrashed beneath my skin, claws straining to pop from my knuckles. If Drake thought he could use a clueless human girl to humiliate me, he was dead wrong.

A soft knock sounded at the doorframe, breaking through the red haze in my mind.

Felicia stood there, leaning casually against the wood. She was wearing my oversized black-and-blue jersey—the one she’d pulled over her bare skin after our little session on my bed—her blonde hair pinned up in a messy knot. She popped a bubble with her pink gum, her dark eyes sparkling with amused malice.

"Is your little puppy still whining?" she mocked smoothly.

"Shut up, Felicia," I growled, turning my back to face the window.

"Just asking, Cap," she chuckled, sauntering into the room and letting the door click shut behind her. "You're staring at that screen like it murdered your family. Did the little nun finally do something scandalous?"

"She's at the Fletcher mansion," I spat, my jaw tight. "Drake took her phone. He sent me a photo of them together."

Felicia stopped mid-stride, her smirk flickering for a fraction of a second before returning twice as sharp. "Oof. That's embarrassing for you."

"It's not embarrassing!" I spun around, my voice dropping into a harsh rasp. "It's a declaration! Drake is testing me. He knows she's mine."

"Is she, though?" Felicia drifted over to the bed, entirely unbothered by my temper. She sat on the edge of the mattress, right next to the phone that was still vibrating with Hay’s desperate texts. She picked it up, glanced at the lock screen, and let out a cruel, melodic laugh. "She really is pitiful. Look at her begging. It's almost sad."

"Put it down," I ordered.

Felicia didn't listen. She tossed the phone onto the pillows, leaning back on her hands and locking eyes with me.

"Think about it, Chris," she purred, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "She's living under the same roof as a Keback Alpha's son for fourteen days. She's going to figure out what we are eventually. Werewolves aren't subtle at home. The heat, the scent, the temper? She's human, but she's not blind. Or worse... Drake is going to realize how easy it is to break her and take her right out from under your nose."

"She belongs to me!" I barked. My eyes flared a violent, glowing amber, and the temperature in the room spiked instantly, thick with the heavy, suffocating scent of my aggression.

Felicia didn't flinch. She just tilted her head, loving every second of the display.

"I mean it," I muttered, forcing the wolf back down and pressing the heel of my hand against my forehead to steady my pulse. "Hay is completely brainwashed. She’s naive, she’s fragile, and she looks at me like I hung the damn moon. She swallows whatever lie I feed her. I told her you were in my room just to drop off my tuxedo, and she apologized to me for suspecting anything."

"Because she's an idiot," Felicia said bluntly, twirling a strand of golden hair around her finger. "And honestly, leaving her standing on that stage while you crowned me Prom Queen just made her look like broken goods. Which makes her an easy target for a Keback looking for a crack in your armor."

I paused my pacing, staring at the floorboards as her words hit home.

She was right. Drake didn't give a damn about Hay’s soft voice, her sweet face, or her stupidly loyal crush. He only cared about what she represented: my weakness. My territory. My prize. If he could turn her against me or claim her for himself, he’d shatter my standing in both the school and the pack before we even stepped foot onto the Gothenburg campus.

"So what's the play, Cap?" Felicia asked, her tone laced with a sharp challenge. "Are you going to sit here and let him play house with your girl?"

I looked back at the bed. The phone had finally gone dead silent. The screen was black. Hay was probably sitting alone in that massive, empty mansion right now, crying her eyes out, convinced I was going to abandon her.

A slow, dark smile spread across my face.

"No," I whispered, stepping toward the bed and snatching the phone. "I'm going to pull the leash."

I unlocked the screen and hit her contact. I brought the phone to my ear, waiting for the inevitable single ring before she picked up.

"Chris?!" her voice burst through the speaker—breathless, terrified, on the verge of tears.

"Hay," I said, keeping my tone ice-cold, heavy with manufactured, crushing disappointment. "We need to talk. Right now."