Mated with a human

chapter 25

Seeing the color of his eyes shift—from warm brown to a glowing yellow—Sofia’s breath caught in her throat.

Her mind spun wildly.

Did I just… see that?

Fear washed over her, real fear—something she had never truly felt before. Her eyes widened, her chest tightening as if the air had been sucked out of the room.

Luke was still consumed by rage, completely unaware of what was happening to him. His body continued to change. The air around them grew cold, unnaturally so, goosebumps rising on Sofia’s skin. His face had gone frighteningly calm—too calm—like a storm that hadn’t decided whether to break or not.

Sofia froze in place, trembling. Her lips quivered, tears stinging her eyes as panic finally cracked her confidence.

Luke’s wolf, sensing her fear—sensing that she was on the verge of breaking—began to calm. Not retreating fully, but easing, just enough.

Sofia lifted a shaking hand, pointing at him.

“Y-your… your eyes,” she stuttered, her voice barely audible. “They… they changed… c-color…”

Luke paused.

Her words cut through the fog of his fury.

He frowned deeply, confused, irritated—almost dismissive of what he thought was nonsense. Without saying anything, he turned to his left.

There was a mirror.

He walked closer to it.

At first, he couldn’t see clearly. Then he leaned in—and froze.

His reflection stared back at him with glowing yellow eyes.

Luke’s heart skipped.

That’s not possible.

His eyes were brown. They had always been brown.

A sharp pain shot through his fingers. He hissed under his breath and looked down.

His nails were longer.

Sharper.

Inhuman.

“What the hell…” he whispered.

He looked back up at the mirror. The yellow was still there. Bright. Alive.

Shock rooted him in place.

Then—voices.

Footsteps.

They were coming closer.

Luke snapped out of it instantly. He turned away from the mirror, refusing to look at Sofia again. With trembling hands, he grabbed his clothes, pulling them on hurriedly. He shoved his things into his bag, slung it over his shoulder, and rushed toward the exit.

He didn’t look back.

As he pushed through the doorway, a few learners bumped into him.

“Hey—watch it,” someone muttered.

Luke kept his head down, avoiding eye contact, his hood pulled low. No one noticed anything unusual. They walked into the changing room, their attention shifting immediately.

Their eyes landed on Sofia.

She stood stiffly by the lockers, pale and unmoving.

A few moments later, Zoe and Molly rushed in.

“Sofia, what happened?” Zoe asked. “Did you fight with Luke again?”

Sofia blinked, her senses slowly returning. She looked around as if waking from a nightmare.

“…Nothing,” she said quietly.

She walked past them without another word.

Zoe and Molly followed her, confused.

“Did you bully him again?” Molly asked.

Sofia didn’t answer. She just kept walking.

Outside, whispers spread quickly.

“Guess she bullied Luke again.”

“Typical Sofia.”

People shrugged it off and went about their business, no longer interested.

June, on the other hand, overheard the murmurs. Her heart dropped.

She immediately went looking for Luke—only to be told he had already left.

Meanwhile, Sofia reached her car. She turned to Zoe and Molly and said flatly, “I can’t take you home today.”

Before they could protest, she got in, started the engine, and drove off alone.

Her hands shook on the steering wheel.

Luke, on the other side of town, was rushing home.

Every time he passed someone, he avoided eye contact. His heart pounded, his thoughts chaotic. The cold still clung to him, his fingers aching beneath his sleeves.

He didn’t slow down.

Not until he finally reached home.

Luke arrived home and stopped at the front door.

His hand hovered over the handle, his chest tight. The thought of running into his grandmother made his stomach twist. What would I even say? There was no explanation he could give—none that wouldn’t sound like a lie.

He took a slow, steadying breath and gently opened the door, careful not to make a sound. Once inside, he closed it just as quietly and looked around.

No one.

Relief washed over him.

He moved quickly, heading upstairs, each step light and cautious. He was almost at the top when his grandmother’s voice floated in from the kitchen behind him.

“Luke, sweetheart? Are you hungry?”

His heart jumped, but he didn’t turn around. “No, Gran,” he called back a little too quickly. “I’ve got a lot of schoolwork to do.”

“Alright,” she replied warmly.

Luke didn’t wait. He rushed into his room, shut the door, and locked it. Only then did he let himself breathe. He dropped his bag and sat heavily on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor for a moment before standing up and heading into the bathroom.

He stepped in front of the mirror.

Slowly, he lifted his gaze.

Brown.

His eyes were brown again—no trace of the yellow that had terrified him earlier. Confused, he leaned closer. Then he looked down at his hands.

Normal.

No long, sharp nails. No claws. Just his fingers.

He furrowed his brows deeply. What… was that? Had he imagined it? But it had felt too real—too painful, too intense to be just his mind playing tricks on him.

Shaking his head, he decided not to think about it. He turned on the shower and stepped in, letting the warm water wash over him. By the time he was done, his body felt lighter, calmer.

He went back into his room, dried off, and grabbed his bag, ready to distract himself with schoolwork.

That’s when he saw it.

His necklace.

It lay inside his bag, the chain tangled slightly, innocent-looking. His chest tightened. Slowly, he picked it up, his fingers curling around it as memories flooded back.

The ashes.

Gone.

His eyes closed, and his fist tightened around the necklace. Anger surged through him—hot, uncontrollable. He didn’t know whether he wanted to scream, cry, or break something. He just stood there, frozen, gripping it like it was the only thing holding him together.

Then his body began to heat up.

At first, it was subtle. Then unbearable.

His skin burned, his breath grew shallow, and panic crept in. He dropped the necklace and hurried back into the bathroom, turning the shower on full cold. He stepped under the icy water, gasping as it hit him—but the burning eased.

A little.

He stayed there, longer than he meant to, the cold water pouring over him as if it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart. Eventually, his legs gave in, and he slid down to sit on the floor of the shower, his arms wrapped around himself.

He didn’t know what was happening to him.

But one thing was clear—

Something inside him had awakened.

Sofia’s side…

She was still in her room, standing inside her walk-in closet, a towel wrapped tightly around her body, reaching her thighs. Dresses of every shade and style surrounded her, hanging neatly on the racks—but her mind was far away.

Luke’s eyes.

Brown.

Then yellow.

The way they had changed right in front of her.

Her fingers hovered over a silk dress as questions spun wildly in her head. What was that? Was I imagining it? People’s eyes don’t just… change.

She didn’t even notice the bedroom door opening.

Soft footsteps crossed the room. Whoever it was followed the faint rustle of fabric until they reached the entrance of the closet. Sofia was still staring blankly at the clothes when a quiet cough broke the silence.

She turned.

Her eyes widened instantly.

“Brian?!”

Without thinking, she grabbed the nearest dress from the rack and pulled it against her body, covering herself. Her heart thudded, not in fear—but in pure anger. “What are you doing in my room?”

Brian leaned casually against the doorway, a faint smirk on his face. “Your parents asked me to check up on you,” he said lightly. “So I did.”

Her gaze sharpened. She saw it—the way his eyes lingered a second too long. Disgust twisted in her chest.

She scoffed. “Don’t look at me like that,” she snapped. “How dare you?”

Brian raised a brow, unfazed. “Relax, Sofia. You’re acting like this is something new.”

Her voice trembled, not with fear, but fury. “I trusted you. I saw you as a brother.” She shook her head. “I’m disappointed. After all this time—this is how you see me?”

Brian chuckled softly, shaking his head. “We’re going to get married anyway,” he said. “There’s nothing to be shy about.”

That was it.

“Get out.”

He blinked. “Sofia—”

“I said get out!” she shouted. “Now. Or I scream.”

For a moment, he just stared at her, his expression darkening. Then he straightened, giving her a long, unreadable look.

“Fine,” he said coolly.

He turned and walked out, closing the door behind him.

The moment it shut, Sofia’s knees felt weak. She leaned against the rack of clothes, clutching the dress to her chest, her breath uneven.

Too much.

Luke’s eyes.

Brian’s words.

Her parents.

Everything felt wrong.

And for the first time in a long while, Sofia—the beauty queen, the untouchable one—felt genuinely unsettled.

Something was changing.

And she didn’t know which frightened her more…

Luke—or the life slowly closing in around her.