Claimed By My Step Brother

Aria had a system. New town. New school. New last name that still felt like it belonged to a stranger. Stay quiet. Stay small. Survive senior year without becoming anyone’s story. The system lasted eleven days. The Voss house was the kind of place that made you feel underdressed just standing in the kitchen. Dark wood, glass walls, the quiet hum of money that never needed to raise its voice. Her mother moved through it like she’d always lived there. Aria still knocked on doorframes before she walked through them. Lucas Voss treated the entire house like an extension of himself. She found him in the kitchen that Monday morning, leaning against the counter in a black T-shirt, scrolling through his phone. Damp hair. That clean pine-and-rain scent that somehow filled the whole room. Aria hated that she noticed it every single time. “Morning, roomie,” he said without looking up. “We’re not roommates.” She opened the fridge and stared hard at the shelves. “We’re temporary cohabitants who share a last name by legal technicality.” A quiet huff of laughter. “You’ve been practicing that one in the mirror.” She grabbed a yogurt. “It’s accurate.” Lucas finally lifted his head. Those gray eyes landed on her and stayed a beat too long. Something flickered behind them — heat, curiosity, something she didn’t have a name for yet. “You’re going to be late,” he said. “I’m taking the long way.” “To avoid me.” It wasn’t a question. Aria stabbed her spoon into the yogurt. “To avoid the circus that follows you. There’s a difference.” He pushed off the counter and walked toward her. She held her ground even when he stopped close enough that she had to tip her chin up. Up close he was worse — sharp jaw, a small scar through one eyebrow, a mouth that looked like it knew exactly how to ruin someone’s concentration. “You know they already talk about you, right?” His voice dropped. “New girl. Stepsister of the guy half the school wants to date and the other half wants to be. You’re not as invisible as you think.” Her pulse jumped. She hated that too. “Then I’ll work harder at it,” she said, and stepped around him. She made it all the way to the front door before he spoke again. “Aria.” She paused, hand on the handle. “Stop running every time I’m in the same room.” There was something almost soft under the usual arrogance. “It’s starting to feel personal.” She didn’t answer. She just walked out into the cool morning air and told herself the strange flutter in her chest was pure annoyance. It had to be. --- School was a different kind of war zone. Silverpine High treated Lucas Voss like a local celebrity and a minor natural disaster at the same time. Girls tracked his movements. Guys either deferred or postured. Aria had mapped three different routes between classes that reduced the chance of crossing his path to almost zero. Almost. She was at her locker between third and fourth period when the air changed. Conversations dipped. Someone laughed too loudly and then went quiet. She didn’t need to look up to know who had just entered the hallway. She looked anyway. Lucas moved through the crowd like it parted for him on instinct. His eyes found her instantly. The easy public smile was gone. In its place was something focused and intense that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. He didn’t stop until he was right in front of her. Aria’s back hit the lockers. “Lucas—” One hand braced against the metal beside her head. The other settled lightly at her waist, fingers spreading like he was claiming the space. His body heat soaked through her sweater. That pine-and-rain scent wrapped around her again, stronger this time, almost dizzying. The hallway had gone completely silent. Lucas leaned in until his mouth was near her ear. When he spoke, his voice was rough, almost animal. “I’m done pretending I don’t feel this.” Aria’s heart slammed so hard she was sure the entire school could hear it. “Feel what? You’re my—” “Mate.” The word landed between them like a living thing. His eyes had shifted — the gray swallowed by molten gold, pupils thin and sharp. For one terrifying, electric second she felt something answer inside her own chest, a pull so strong it made her knees weak. Around them phones were already up. Whispers started like wildfire. Lucas didn’t look away from her. His thumb brushed once, deliberately, over the side of her throat. “Tonight,” he said, so only she could hear. “Old oak behind the field. We talk. Or I stop being subtle.” Then he stepped back, shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked away like he hadn’t just set her entire careful life on fire. Aria stayed frozen against the lockers, pulse racing, the word *mate* still burning under her skin. Across the hall, Lucas glanced back once. He didn’t smile this time. He just watched her like the chase had already begun. And for the first time since she moved into that too-big house, Aria wasn’t sure she wanted to keep running.