Alpha's Brother, My Second Chance.

Chapter 5

ARIA

For a moment, I lost my breath. The box in my hands felt suddenly weightless, the noise of the city dimmed into a distant hum, and all I could hear was the sharp, surprised rhythm of my own heartbeat. Luca stood in front of me, close enough that I could see the faint drops of sweat clinging to the collar of his T-shirt, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body, and close enough that the mate bond surged like a living thing beneath my skin.

His blue eyes, calm, steady, and unreadable, held mine just long enough to make the world tilt. I finally forced myself to blink, to draw in a shaky breath, to step backward even though he still lightly held the bottom of the box to keep it steady.

“What… what are you doing here?” I managed. My voice came out thinner than I wanted, and softer than I intended, as if my lungs were still catching up to the shock of seeing him in the last place I ever expected. He released the box gently and straightened with a maddening calm. “I live here,” he said simply, nodding toward the building behind him. “Down floor.”

The words hit far too precisely. “You live here? In this building?”

“Yes,” he replied, his tone smooth and infuriatingly casual. “For about three years now.”

I stared at him, struggling to process it. “And… and this place I’m renting… the apartment downstairs…” I paused, forcing myself to breathe because the suspicion forming in my mind was sharp and uncomfortable. “Luca, tell me the truth. Did you arrange this? Did you know I would come here? Is that why the rent is so cheap?”

His expression didn’t flicker, not even a fraction. He folded his arms loosely, leaning a little back on one heel with a confidence he seemed to have learned somewhere in the human world. “No,” he said calmly. “I didn’t arrange anything. It’s strictly coincidence. Nothing more.”

I held his gaze, trying to see through him, trying to decide whether he was lying or whether fate just had a twisted sense of humor. The mate bond pulsed beneath my skin again, unsettling and sharp, and I hated how my body reacted before my mind could form a coherent thought. “Coincidence,” I repeated quietly, searching his expression for any sign of deception.

“Yes.” His voice didn’t waver. “A strange one, but a coincidence.”

The city moved around us, cars passing, voices rising and fading, doors opening and closing, yet none of it felt real. It was as if the two of us stood inside a pocket of stillness carved out exclusively for this moment.

I shifted the box to my hip and forced myself to gather the pieces of control slipping through my fingers. “Well… thank you for catching the box,” I said, trying to sound composed. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“You were distracted,” he replied, not accusingly, just softly observant.

I didn’t respond. I didn’t trust myself to.

He nodded toward the gate. “Are you settling in?”

“Yes,” I said shortly. “It’s a good place. Quiet and affordable.”

“I’m glad you found somewhere safe,” he murmured.

That simple statement tightened something deep in my chest. Why did his voice sound like he meant it? Why did it feel like there was so much he wasn’t saying aloud? I swallowed hard, pushing past the pull of the bond and the unfamiliar comfort threading through his words.

“Luca,” I said firmly, shifting my stance. “About everything… my decision still stands. The bond doesn’t change anything. It can’t. I don’t want a second chance. Not now. Not with you.”

He didn’t flinch. He didn’t look hurt or offended. If anything, he simply absorbed the words with another quiet nod, as if he had expected them. “I hear you,” he said, the same words he gave me in Adrian’s room, steady and calm, but this time something else lingered beneath them, something unreadable, something that made the bond throb in response.

I stepped back, needing space, needing air, needing even the faintest distance to keep my thoughts sharp and my emotions from rising. “I should finish moving my things,” I murmured.

He inclined his head politely. “Let me help you carry...”

“No.” I cut in too quickly. “No, it’s fine. I can handle it.”

Something flashed in his eyes, amusement maybe, oracknowledgmentt, but he didn’t push. “If you insist.”

“I do.” I turned toward the gate, gripping the box tighter than necessary. My legs felt unsteady, my breath uneven, but I forced myself to walk. I took a step. Then another.

I gave him distance and took control.

But fate didn’t care about control.

My foot caught on the raised corner of the walkway tile, so small I hadn’t noticed it, and the jolt threw my balance off instantly. The box slid from my hands. My body lurched forward. The world tilted as panic surged in my chest. I braced for the impact of concrete, but it never came. Instead, strong arms wrapped around me in one swift, reflexive motion, lifting weight from the fall and pulling me against a steady chest that radiated warmth and something dangerously familiar.

His scent hit me instantly, clean water, faint pine, something cool and sharp beneath it. It washed over me like a memory I didn’t want to acknowledge.

Time didn’t slow. It stopped.

My hands landed against his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath my palms. His breath brushed the side of my face, warm and too close. His eyes, only inches from mine, held a question I didn’t know how to answer, and a certainty I wasn’t ready to accept. The mate bond surged violently, flooding every nerve in my body until I felt lightheaded.

Neither of us moved.Neither of us breathed. Neither of us looked away. His steady and controlled arms remained around me, refusing to reveal anything he didn’t want me to see, but unable to hide the subtle tightening of his grip when the bond flared between us. My heart slammed painfully against my ribs. My voice, if I even had one, refused to come. He looked at me like time itself had folded in half and placed this moment directly at our feet.

“Careful,” he murmured, his voice low, deep, and far too intimate. “You almost hurt yourself.”

But I barely heard the words. All I could feel was the bond pulsing, alive and undeniable, as if fate had just whispered,

You can run.

But you cannot outrun this.