Bound By The Moon

Chapter 6 - Possessive & you’re mine

(Adrian’s POV)

The moon was wrong tonight.

its 4'o clock.....

Too full.

Too bright.

Too close.

Its light bled through my bedroom window, silver and merciless, hitting me like heat spreading under my skin. My pulse hammered against my ribs — fast, heavy, feral. I dragged my breath in through clenched teeth, but it didn’t help.

I could feel it.

The shift.

A reminder of the animal threaded through my blood and bones.

Not now. Not in this house. Not when she’s here.

I dug my nails into my palms, grounding myself, forcing the beast back. But ever since she arrived, controlling it was… harder.

Elena.

Even her name did something to me.

She was just down the hall, probably asleep, unaware that my body was reacting to her scent, her presence, her heartbeat. Mate or not — she was forbidden. My father married her mother. She lived under my roof. My pack would question my sanity.

But destiny never asked for permission.

And my wolf had already chosen her.

Mine.

The word echoed inside me like a command.

I walked to the window. The full moon crowned the sky like a glowing eye, watching. Waiting.

I swallowed, hard.

“I can’t lose control,” I muttered to myself.

My reflection in the glass wasn’t just mine anymore. My eyes flashed—gold—then faded back to their normal icy gray. I gripped the window frame, knuckles whitening as a tremor ran through my body.

I don't even remember my injury.

I needed fresh air before I did something reckless.

Or worse — someone.

The mansion was asleep by the time I slipped into the hallway. The carpets muffled my footsteps. Every door was closed. Every room was dark.

Except hers.

Her door was cracked open just enough to taunt me.

Just enough for the moonlight to slip through and draw me toward her like a moth to a flame.

“Elena…” I whispered her name without meaning to.

Pathetic.

The wolf saw fate in her eyes.

He wanted to protect her, claim her, worship the ground she walked on.

He wanted to love her in a way no human language could ever describ

fierce, loyal, eternal..

But I was supposed to protect her.

I turned to leave — but then movement caught my eye through that half-open door.

She was awake.

Sitting on her bed, knees pulled to her chest, staring toward the window. Her hair was messy from sleep, falling in soft waves around her face. Her oversized sweatshirt was slipping off one shoulder, revealing bare skin — delicate, warm, calling to me like a hidden invitation.

And that heartbeat — steady but a little faster than usual.

She sensed something.

Maybe me.

Maybe the moon.

A low growl reverberated in my chest before I could stop it.

Control, i***t.

I should leave. I should. But I found myself stepping closer, until I was standing outside her doorway.

“Elena?”

My voice came out rougher than I intended.

She jumped slightly. Our eyes met.

“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked softly.

“No,” I answered. “You?”

She shook her head. “Bad dreams.”

Dreams? Or instincts?

“I heard footsteps,” she added quietly. “Thought it might be—”

“Me,” I finished.

You always sense me.

The tension between us thickened, electric. Something primal stirred inside me, seeing her like this — fragile, awake, letting her walls down for the first time.

She looked at my wound and then at the pout on my face.

Her voice trembled. “You look… different.”

Yeah. Because I was barely holding the wolf back.

“I’m fine,” I lied. “Just needed air.”

Elena hesitated, then stood from her bed and walked toward me. Barefoot. Sleepy. Innocent.

The closer she came, the stronger her scent became. Warm vanilla. Rain. Something uniquely hers.

The wolf inside me surged forward.

Mine.

My pulse roared in my ears as she stopped just inches away.

“Adrian?” she whispered.

Danger.

I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to step back, creating distance — the one thing my body hated doing around her.

“Go back to sleep,” I said, voice strained.

Her brows knit. “Are you… okay?”

No.

Not with you this close.

Not under this moon.

Not when fate carved your soul to fit mine.

I exhaled sharply and turned away.

“I’ll walk you to school tomorrow,” I blurted.

She blinked, surprised. “You… will?”

“It’s not safe to walk alone here. Especially near the woods.”

Her lips parted slightly, curiosity sparking.

“Are there wolves or something?”

The word hit me like a punch.

If only she knew.

I didn’t answer — couldn’t. Instead, I walked away before I lost control completely.

But I stopped halfway down the hall, unable to resist one last look back.

She was still standing there in the doorway, watching me like I was the mystery she desperately wanted to solve.

And maybe I wanted her to.

“Goodnight, Elena,” I said quietly.

She smiled — just a small, tired, perfect smile.

“Goodnight… Adrian.”

I walked away, pulse still violent, heart still unsteady.

The moon followed me like a promise.

Or a warning.

Tonight, the wolf hadn’t escaped.

Tomorrow… I wasn’t so sure.

Elena’s POV

The morning should have felt normal.

New home. First weekend. Sunlight filtered through the tall pine trees outside my window.

But nothing felt normal after last night.

Not after the way Adrian stood at my door, the moon reflecting in his eyes like molten gold.

Not after how my heart sprinted whenever he was near.

Something about him was changing — or maybe I was changing.

I should be terrified.

And I am.

But not of him.

Of myself.

Of the part of me that didn’t push him away… the part that wanted more.

I’m losing my mind.

I finally force myself out of bed and drag my fingers through my hair. My reflection in the mirror startles me — dark circles under my eyes, lips too flushed, pupils dilated like I’m high on something.

Or someone.

I wash my face, brush my teeth, do every normal thing I can to remind myself that I am sane. Human. Grounded.

There is no reason my heart should be racing like this.

No reason I should still feel his touch like heat on my skin.

I grab my backpack and head downstairs

When I stepped into the hallway, the air felt charged — like static before a storm. Voices drifted from downstairs. My mother’s laugh, Mr. Blake’s polite murmurs. A normal, harmless weekend conversation.

But beneath that, I sensed something else.

Something silent.

Something watching.

My fingers brushed the railing as I descended the stairs — slowly, cautiously.

And there he was.

Adrian leaned against the dining room archway, black hoodie, messy hair, hands in pockets. He looked casual—effortlessly dangerous. Like temptation wrapped in midnight.

But his eyes…

His eyes weren’t casual.

They were locked on me.

He didn’t blink.

He didn’t look away.

Not even for a second.

Heat crawled up my neck.

“Morning,” I said, pretending not to notice the way he was staring.

“Morning,” he replied, voice lower than usual, rough around the edges.

He watches me eat. Watches my every move. It should feel creepy, but somehow it doesn’t. It feels… possessive.

Like his eyes are hands.

“Did you sleep?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I lie, my voice too quick.

The corner of his mouth lifts — not a smile, more like he’s amused I even tried to lie to him.

“You didn’t,” he says softly.

Something about the certainty in his voice makes heat crawl up my neck.

“You weren’t sleeping either,” I fire back.

He pauses.

Checkmate.

Mr. Blake glanced between us, unaware of the electric tension stretching the air tight.

“Elena, I have to go into the city today. Your mom is coming with me.”

“Oh,” I nodded. “That’s fine.”

Adrian spoke up immediately.

“I’ll walk her to school.”

They exchanged a relieved look — the parents believing their children were bonding.

If only they knew.

My mother placed a hand on my arm. “It’ll be good for both of you.”

Good for us?

Well — maybe not for my sanity.

They leave .

I force myself to move, grabbing a piece of toast like it’s a shield of protection.

“Hurry up, I don't like people who are late” he suddenly says.

My toast nearly falls from my hand.

“I—what?”

“I said,” he walks closer, slow and deliberate, “I’m taking you to school.”

I straighten, clutching my bag. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

Adrian tilts his head slightly, eyes locking on mine.

“Not a babysitter.”

Then, lower—

“A protector.”

My breath hitches.

“From what?”

He doesn’t answer.

Adrian opened the door, holding it just long enough to make sure I had to walk past him. Closing the distance. Brushing against his body heat. His presence curled around me like gravity.

Once we were outside, the mansion doors closed,

thud.

Silence.

Not awkward.

Just intense.

I’m not sure when I started moving, but the next thing I know, I’m walking beside him down the street. The air between us crackles with tension — too close for comfort, too far to touch.

He keeps pace with me, silently, hands in his pockets.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask.

He doesn’t hesitate. “Because I want to.”

That answer is too honest.

I look away, trying to ignore the shiver under my skin.

“People will talk,” I say carefully.

“Let them.”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“No.”

He steps closer, brushing against me accidentally — or maybe intentionally. The contact is like a spark. My lungs forget how to work.

“But it bothers you," he adds quietly.

I swallow hard. “Yes.”

“Why?”

Because girls glare at me every time he looks in my direction.

Because he's dangerous territory.

Because he isn't supposed to touch me.

Because I can’t be the girl who falls for her stepbrother.

“I don’t want attention,” I say.

Adrian stops walking.

I do too.

He turns toward me, gaze intense and unreadable.

“You don’t have to want it.”

He reaches out and—very gently—tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

His fingers brush my cheek.

I feel it everywhere.

“I’ll take it for you,” he whispers.

My breath catches. “Why?”

His eyes darken — a storm gathering.

“Because you’re mine.”

My pulse jumps. “I am not.”

He steps closer. “Not yet.”

The world stops.

Students passing the street stare at us but I barely notice.

His voice drops to a dangerous whisper.

“But you will be.”

What?

Who does that?

Who decides things like that?

I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets. “You don’t own me.”

The corner of his lip lifted — not a smile, more like a challenge.

“Not yet.”

My breath caught.

I got irritated....

Not yet? what not yet - not yet uhh...

He didn’t explain. Didn’t even seem like he needed to.