Claimed by My Alpha Step Brother

chapter 9. phyna POV

I heard his footsteps in the hallway long before he knocked.

I had been sitting on the edge of my bed for almost an hour, staring at the door like it might bite me. Every part of me wanted to lock it. To pretend I was already asleep. To buy myself one more night of denial. But I had promised myself I wouldn’t run this time. And Tristan had made it clear he wouldn’t let me.

The knock was soft. Three quiet taps.

I stood up, wiped my damp palms against my jeans, and opened the door.

Tristan stood there in a black T-shirt and gray sweatpants, hair slightly messy, eyes already locked on mine. He didn’t wait for an invitation. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him with a quiet click that felt louder than it should have.

For a moment neither of us spoke.

The bond surged the second the door shut, filling the small space between us with heat and tension. My wolf rose so fast it almost made me dizzy. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to hold myself together.

“You said we were talking,” I managed.

“We are.” His voice was low. Controlled. But there was something raw underneath it. “No interruptions. No hallways. No audience.”

I nodded once and sat back down on the edge of the bed because my legs didn’t feel steady. Tristan stayed standing for a few seconds, then leaned against the desk across from me, giving me space I both needed and hated.

“I’ve been trying to give you time,” he said. “But every day you pull away, it gets harder. For both of us.”

I looked down at my hands. “I know.”

“Do you?” He pushed off the desk and took one slow step closer. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re willing to tear yourself apart just to keep denying this.”

“I’m trying to survive it,” I said quietly. “There’s a difference.”

Tristan’s jaw flexed. “Survive me?”

“Survive what comes with you.” I forced myself to meet his eyes. “The pack. The school. The fact that our parents are married. Do you know what people already call me? The Beta girl who got lucky because her mother married an Alpha. If they find out you think I’m your mate, it won’t just be rumors anymore. It will be war. Against me.”

He was silent for a long moment. Then he crossed the remaining distance and crouched in front of me so we were at eye level. The position should have made him look smaller. It didn’t. If anything, it made the intensity in his gaze harder to escape.

“I won’t let them touch you,” he said.

“You can’t control an entire pack.”

“Watch me.”

The certainty in his voice sent a shiver down my spine. I hated how much part of me wanted to believe him. I hated how safe it felt when he looked at me like that—like I was already his to protect.

“I’m scared,” I admitted, the words barely above a whisper. “I’m scared of how much I feel this. I’m scared of how much I want to stop fighting. And I’m terrified of what happens if I do.”

Tristan’s eyes softened, but the gold didn’t fade. He lifted one hand and rested it lightly on my knee. The simple contact made my breath catch.

“You’re allowed to be scared,” he said. “But you don’t have to be scared alone.”

I let out a shaky breath. “You make it sound simple.”

“It’s not simple. It’s messy and complicated and probably going to piss off a lot of people. Including our parents.” His thumb brushed once across my knee. “But it’s real. And I’m done pretending I can walk around this house every day acting like you’re just my stepsister.”

The word hung between us, heavy and unwanted.

I closed my eyes. “If we do this… if we even try… someone is going to get hurt.”

“Maybe.” His voice dropped lower. “But the only thing I know for sure is that staying away from you is already hurting me. And it’s hurting you too. I can feel it.”

He was right. The constant ache in my chest had become a part of my daily life. The restlessness. The way my wolf snarled every time I turned away from him. The way my body leaned toward him even when my mind screamed at me to run.

I opened my eyes and found him watching me with an expression that made my heart stumble.

“I don’t know how to be someone’s mate,” I whispered. “Especially not yours.”

Tristan rose slowly from his crouch and sat beside me on the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight. He didn’t touch me again, but the heat of his body was close enough to feel.

“Then we figure it out,” he said. “One day at a time. I’m not asking you to stand in front of the pack tomorrow and let me claim you. I’m asking you to stop running from me in this house. To stop looking at me like I’m the enemy.”

My throat tightened. “You’re not the enemy.”

“Then stop treating me like one.”

Silence settled between us. Thick. Charged. My pulse was so loud I was sure he could hear it. The bond thrummed under my skin, pushing me toward him, begging for contact.

I turned my head and looked at him. Really looked. At the sharp line of his jaw. The dark honey of his eyes. The barely restrained tension in his shoulders. He was trying so hard to hold himself back. For me.

Something inside my chest cracked open.

“I’m tired,” I said softly. “I’m tired of fighting this every second of the day.”

Tristan’s breath left him in a slow exhale. “Then don’t.”

He lifted his hand and this time he didn’t hesitate. His fingers slid into my hair, cradling the back of my head as he leaned in. He stopped just short of my mouth, giving me one last chance to pull away.

I didn’t.

The first brush of his lips against mine was careful. Almost questioning. The second was not. The bond exploded between us the moment I kissed him back, flooding my body with heat and relief so intense that a soft sound escaped my throat. Tristan made a low, rough noise in response and pulled me closer, one arm wrapping around my waist as he deepened the kiss.

It wasn’t gentle for long.

Days of tension and denial poured into the space between us. His mouth moved against mine with a hunger that matched the restless need I had been trying to bury. My hands found his shoulders, then the back of his neck, pulling him closer because the alternative—letting go—felt impossible.

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard. Tristan rested his forehead against mine, eyes closed, his hand still tangled in my hair.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the night I realized what you were to me,” he murmured.

I couldn’t speak. My heart was racing too fast. My lips still tingled. The bond felt quieter now, soothed by the contact, but the fear underneath it hadn’t disappeared.

Tristan pulled back just enough to look at me. His eyes searched my face.

“Tell me you felt that,” he said. “Tell me it wasn’t just me.”

“I felt it,” I whispered.

A small, almost vulnerable smile touched his mouth. Then it faded into something more serious.

“I’m not going to push you into anything public yet,” he said. “But I need you to stop shutting me out completely. Let me in, Phyna. Even if it’s just here. Even if it’s just when the door is closed.”

I stared at him, still trying to catch my breath. The smart part of me knew this was dangerous. The rest of me—the part that had just kissed him back like the world was ending—already knew I had crossed a line I couldn’t return from.

“Okay,” I said quietly.

Tristan’s eyes flashed gold. He leaned in and pressed one more soft kiss to my lips, slower this time, almost reverent.

“Okay,” he repeated.

He stayed for a while longer. We didn’t kiss again. We just sat there on the edge of my bed, close enough that our shoulders brushed, talking in low voices about everything and nothing. For the first time since I had moved into this house, the silence between us didn’t feel heavy.

When he finally stood to leave, he paused at the door and looked back at me.

“Sleep,” he said. “I’ll still be here in the morning.”

Then he was gone.

I lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, one hand resting over my racing heart.

I had kissed my stepbrother.

I had kissed my mate.

And the most terrifying part was that I already wanted to do it again.