Claimed by My Alpha Step Brother

chapter 10. phyna POV

I woke up with the taste of him still on my lips.

For a few disorienting seconds I lay still, staring at the ceiling, wondering if the night before had been a dream. Then the memory rushed back in full force—Tristan’s hand in my hair, the heat of his mouth, the way the bond had settled the moment I stopped fighting. My cheeks burned. My wolf stretched under my skin, content for the first time in days.

I had kissed him.

I had kissed my mate… and my stepbrother.

The two truths sat side by side in my chest, equally heavy.

I forced myself out of bed and into the shower, hoping the hot water would clear my head. It didn’t. Every time I closed my eyes I felt his forehead against mine again, heard the rough edge in his voice when he said he had wanted to do that since the night he recognized me.

By the time I came downstairs, the house was already moving. My mother stood at the stove. Tristan’s father sat at the table with a tablet. And Tristan leaned against the counter, coffee in hand, looking far too calm for someone who had completely rearranged my world the night before.

His eyes found mine the second I appeared.

The bond sparked between us, warm and immediate. I looked away quickly, but not before I saw the faint, private curve of his mouth.

“Morning, sweetheart,” my mother said. “You look like you actually slept.”

“Yeah,” I managed. “A little.”

Tristan slid a mug toward me without a word. Our fingers brushed when I took it. The contact was brief, but it sent a ripple of heat up my arm. I pulled back too fast and nearly spilled the coffee. His father glanced up briefly, then returned to his screen. My mother didn’t notice.

I ate in silence, hyperaware of every movement Tristan made. When he finally left the kitchen to grab his bag, he passed close enough behind my chair that his fingers trailed lightly across my shoulder—hidden from view, gone in a second. My pulse jumped.

This was going to be impossible.

School felt different the moment I walked through the doors.

It wasn’t that anyone knew. Not yet. But *I* knew. And the secret sat under my skin like a live wire. Every time I caught Tristan’s scent in the hallway, the memory of the kiss surged back. Every time our eyes met across a crowded corridor, the bond pulled tight and warm.

He kept his distance in public, just like he promised. But the distance felt thinner now. Charged. I could feel him even when he wasn’t looking at me.

Lila noticed the change before anyone else.

She cornered me by the bathrooms after second period, her two usual shadows flanking her.

“You’re smiling,” she said, as if it were an accusation. “That’s new.”

I kept my expression flat. “I didn’t realize that was a crime.”

“It’s not. It’s just interesting.” Her eyes narrowed. “Tristan looked at you this morning like he already knew how you tasted.”

My stomach dropped. I forced my face to stay blank. “You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” She stepped closer. “Be careful, Phyna. Boys like him collect secrets. And when they’re done with them, they don’t clean up the mess. You will.”

She walked away before I could answer, leaving the threat hanging in the air.

I spent the rest of the morning trying to convince myself she was only guessing. That she hadn’t seen anything real. But the anxiety stayed lodged under my ribs.

At lunch I hid in the library instead of the empty classroom. It felt safer—more people, less chance of being cornered. I found a table in the back corner and opened a book I had no intention of reading. My mind kept drifting back to the night before. To the way Tristan had kissed me like he was starving. To the way I had kissed him back.

I was so lost in the memory that I didn’t notice him until he slid into the chair across from me.

My head snapped up. “What are you doing?”

“Eating lunch,” Tristan said calmly, setting a tray down. “With my mate.”

“Someone could see.”

“Then they’ll see me sitting with my stepsister.” His eyes held mine. “I’m not going to touch you. I’m not going to say anything dangerous. But I’m also not going to keep pretending you don’t exist just because Lila and her friends have decided you’re a problem.”

I glanced around the library. A few students looked over, curious, but no one seemed particularly focused on us yet. Still, my heart was racing.

“You’re going to make this harder,” I whispered.

“It’s already hard.” He leaned forward slightly, voice low. “I barely slept. All I could think about was the way you sounded when I kissed you. The way you pulled me closer. Tell me you haven’t been thinking about it too.”

Heat flooded my face. I looked down at the table. “Of course I have.”

A quiet, satisfied sound left him. “Good.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes. I picked at the food he had brought me without tasting it. The bond hummed contentedly between us, soothed by the simple proximity. It was dangerous how quickly my body was learning to crave this.

“My father asked about you this morning,” Tristan said eventually.

I looked up. “What?”

“He noticed you’ve been quiet. Distant. He asked if you were adjusting okay.” Tristan’s jaw tightened. “I hated lying to him.”

Guilt twisted in my stomach. “We can’t tell them.”

“Not yet.” He held my gaze. “But I’m not going to hide this forever, Phyna. The longer we wait, the worse it will be when it comes out.”

“And when it comes out, everything blows up,” I said. “Their marriage. Your position. My place in this pack. You might be willing to risk that. I’m still not sure I am.”

Tristan’s expression softened, but the intensity didn’t leave his eyes. “I’m not asking you to decide everything today. I’m just asking you not to run from me again. Not after last night.”

I swallowed. “I won’t.”

The bell rang before either of us could say more. Tristan stood first, gathering his things with calm, deliberate movements. As he passed behind my chair, his fingers brushed the back of my neck in a fleeting, secret caress that made my breath hitch.

“I’ll see you at home,” he murmured.

Then he was gone.

The afternoon dragged. I couldn’t focus on anything. Every rumor that floated past me felt sharper. Every glance from Lila’s direction felt like a threat. By the time the final bell rang, my nerves were scraped raw.

I walked home alone, replaying Tristan’s words over and over. *I’m not going to hide this forever.*

Part of me wanted that. Wanted to stop sneaking glances and stolen touches and locked-door conversations. The other part—the part that still remembered what it felt like to be the outsider Beta—was terrified of the fallout.

When I reached the Alpha house, Tristan’s car was already in the driveway. I found him in the kitchen, alone, leaning against the counter like he had been waiting.

The second the front door closed behind me, he crossed the room.

He didn’t speak. He just cupped my face in both hands and kissed me.

It was deeper than the night before. Hungrier. I made a soft sound against his mouth and fisted my hands in his shirt, pulling him closer. The bond roared to life between us, bright and demanding. Tristan backed me against the counter, his body pressing into mine, one hand sliding down to my waist.

We broke apart only when the sound of a car door slammed outside.

We froze.

My mother’s voice floated in from the driveway, followed by Tristan’s father’s deeper reply. They were home.

Tristan rested his forehead against mine, breathing hard. His eyes were pure gold.

“One day,” he whispered, “I’m not going to stop when someone comes home.”

Then he stepped back, just as the front door opened, and the careful mask of the future Alpha slid over his face again.

I turned to the sink on unsteady legs, pretending to wash my hands, while my heart tried to beat its way out of my chest.

The secret was still safe.

But it was getting heavier by the hour.

And I was no longer sure how much longer either of us could carry it.