Mated To My Alpha Stepbrother.

Chapter 14.

ELAINE

“Yes,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “He was my father. How… how do you know his name?”

Elder Bram's gaze lingered on my face for what felt like forever. His scarred cheek twitched, and for a second, I thought I saw something pass through his eyes. Sorrow? Guilt? I couldn't tell.

“I knew him,” he said at last. “A long time ago.”

“Knew him how?”

“That is a story for another day, child.” He straightened, smoothing the front of his robe as though he hadn't just dropped a bomb on me. “Perhaps it is best if you do not speak of this to the others just yet.”

“What others? Why…”

“Elaine!”

Jeremy's voice echoed down the corridor. I turned and saw him walking back toward us, his brows furrowed. He stopped beside me, and I felt his eyes shift from me to the Elder and back again.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“Not at all, Alpha.” Elder Bram's face had slipped back into that calm, unreadable mask. “I was only welcoming your stepsister. Enjoy your tour.”

With that, he turned and walked back into the hall. The heavy doors shut behind him with a dull thud.

I stood there, staring at the wood, my thoughts spinning like a washing machine.

“What did he say to you?” Jeremy asked.

“Nothing,” I lied quickly. “Just… welcome stuff.”

He narrowed his eyes. I could tell he didn't believe me, but to my surprise, he didn't push. He only nodded slowly and tilted his head toward the exit.

“Come on.”

…

We were back in the mustang, and the silence was killing me.

It wasn't the fun, crackling kind of silence from before. It was the other kind. The kind where you were painfully aware of every little thing, like the squeak of the seat or the sound of your own swallowing.

“So…” we both said at the same time.

I snapped my mouth shut. Jeremy cleared his throat.

“You go,” he said.

“No, you.”

“It's nothing.”

“Okay.”

More silence. Whoof.

I turned and stared out the window, counting trees. Seven. Eight. Nine. This was ridiculous. A few weeks ago, this man had held me in a hotel room like I was something precious, and now I couldn't even ask him how his day was going.

“Is it weird?” I blurted out.

“Is what weird?”

“This.” I waved my hand between us. “Us. Pretending we're… normal. Like we're supposed to be.”

He let out a short laugh, running his palm over the back of his neck. “It's incredibly weird.”

“Oh, thank the Goddess.” I slumped against the seat. “I thought it was just me.”

“It's not just you.” He glanced at me with a sheepish smile, one I hadn't seen before. It made him look younger, almost boyish. “Believe me, when I walked into the packhouse and saw you standing there next to your mom, I almost swallowed my own tongue.”

“You looked so calm!”

“I was dying inside.”

A laugh bubbled out of me before I could stop it. Jeremy laughed too, and for a moment the air between us eased. It felt almost normal.

Almost.

“You know,” I said, picking at a loose thread on my jeans, “I spent the entire morning after that night convincing myself I'd never see you again. I even made a little speech about it.”

“A speech?”

“In the mirror. On my way home.”

“What did it say?”

“Something about learning from my mistakes and moving on.” I rolled my eyes. “Very inspirational.”

“Mistake, huh?” he said, though his tone held no offense. His lips curved into the faintest smirk. “And here I thought I'd left a good impression.”

Heat shot up my neck. “That's not what I meant.”

“What did you mean, then?”

“I meant…” I fumbled. “I meant it was a one-time thing. A fling. Not something you tell your new stepfather about over dinner.”

“Fair point.”

“And now we're just…”

“Family,” he finished, the word sounding strange in his mouth.

We looked at each other and, at the same moment, both looked away.

Awkward didn't even begin to cover it.

…

Jeremy parked the car near a wide field on the edge of the pack, where the grass was worn thin and wooden posts stood in neat rows. A few young men were sparring in the distance, grunting and laughing. The training grounds.

“This is where most of the warriors train,” Jeremy said as we walked toward the fence. “You'll find me here a lot, when I'm not busy being an Alpha.”

“Training for what?”

“Rogues. Other packs. Anything that comes through our borders.” He stopped beside a wooden post and leaned on it. “You ever fought before?”

“Define fought.” He smirked. “So, no.”

“I punched you, didn't I?”

“You did,” he admitted, rubbing his stomach with mock pain. “Still hurts, by the way.”

“Good.” “Come here.” I blinked. “What?”

“Come here, Kitten. I'll show you something.”

“I told you to stop calling me…”

“Elaine.” He said my name softly this time, and somehow it was worse. “Just come here.”

I walked over slowly, my heart thudding for no good reason. He stepped behind me and gently took my wrists.

I stiffened.

“Relax,” he murmured. His breath tickled the side of my neck. “If someone grabs you like this…” His fingers closed around my wrists, firm but not painful. “…what do you do?”

“Scream?”

“Wrong.”

“Kick you?”

“Better. But you can't kick if I'm behind you.” He bent his head closer, and his chest pressed lightly against my back. “Turn your wrists out. Toward my thumbs. Fast.”

I tried. And failed. And tried again.

“Again,” he said.

“I'm trying!”

“You're thinking too much.”

“It's hard to not think when you're…” I trailed off, horrified at what I'd almost said.

“When I'm what?”

“Breathing down my neck.”

“Am I?” I could hear the grin in his voice. “Sorry. Let me move.”

He didn't move.

Neither did I.

The sounds of the sparring men seemed to fade. All I could feel was the warmth of his body behind me and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, or maybe it was mine. I closed my eyes for a second, and just like that, I was back in that cheap hotel room, his hands sliding along my waist, his mouth near my ear, whispering something I couldn't remember.

“Elaine,” he whispered now.

“Yeah?”

“Turn your wrists.”

I did and it worked. I slipped from his grip and stumbled forward, spinning around to face him. We stood a breath apart, both of us flushed, both of us pretending we weren't.

“See?” he said, his voice rougher than before. “You're a fast learner.”

“Don't,” I warned weakly. “Don't say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you're not thinking about…”

His eyes darkened. “About what?” My mouth went completely dry.

A phone buzzed and we both jumped. Jeremy pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and glanced at the screen. His jaw tightened just slightly.

“Iria,” he said.

“Of course,” I said, laughing, though nothing about it was funny. “You should answer that.”

He hesitated, his gaze still on me, before turning away and lifting the phone to his ear. “Hey, babe.”

Bab

e.

I walked to the fence, gripped the wooden rail, and stared hard at the sparring men.

Mistake, I reminded myself. It was a mistake.

So why did it feel like my wrists were still burning?