Heat Beneath the Surface
1273 Words
The morning sun shouldn’t feel this heavy.
Ivy’s fingers fumble with the hem of her hoodie as she hurries down the sidewalk, her thoughts still tangled in the aftermath of the night before. Kael’s touch. His voice. The way his hands lingered a second too long when he bandaged her up. The heat that bloomed between them, just inches from something dangerous.
She should be over it. But her skin still burns like he’s touching her now.
She’s headed to school—or trying to. Her body aches from the fall in the shower, muscles tight and tender. But worse is the ache in her chest, the way her thoughts keep sliding back to Kael. His scent. His hands. The quiet storm in his silver eyes.
And now, there’s a party tonight. Something about an official announcement. Brielle had practically growled about it in the hallway yesterday, tossing her perfectly styled hair and whispering about some "big change in the pack." Something no one knows yet.
Something Ivy’s sure Kael knows.
And didn’t tell her.
Her chest tightens. A stupid, stinging sense of betrayal settles under her skin.
She rounds the corner and slams straight into Brielle.
“Watch it, orphan,” Brielle snaps, shoving Ivy back a step. Her nails are painted blood red, and her mouth curls in that venomous smile Ivy’s come to recognize.
Ivy straightens, jaw clenched. “You bumped into me.”
“Oh, poor thing. Still playing the victim?” Brielle steps closer. Her voice drops low. “Let me guess. Kael gave you a little attention and now you think you matter?”
Ivy’s fists curl.
“You think someone like him wants someone like you?” Brielle hisses. “You’re nothing but a charity case. A broken mutt. He’s mine.”
Ivy doesn’t flinch this time. “Funny. Doesn’t look like he wants you.”
The slap comes fast.
Pain blossoms across Ivy’s cheek, and it’s only instinct that keeps her from stumbling.
A low growl cuts through the air like a blade. Ivy doesn’t have to turn around to know who it is.
Kael.
“Enough.” His voice is calm, but it’s the kind of calm that warns of storms.
Brielle stiffens. “Kael, she—”
“I said enough.” His eyes flick to Ivy. They soften for half a second, before hardening again. “You alright?”
Ivy nods slowly, breathing through the sting.
Kael steps between them, towering over Brielle. “Touch her again, and I’ll forget you’re the daughter of a former alpha.”
Brielle’s eyes narrow. “Former?”
Kael doesn’t answer. He just turns to Ivy, brushing a knuckle down her cheek without thinking.
The world tilts.
“I need to talk to you,” he murmurs, low enough that only she can hear. “Before the party tonight.”
“I’m busy,” Ivy replies, ignoring the way her pulse jumps.
He leans in closer, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. “I’m not asking.”
Then he walks away, leaving her breathless and burning.
Ivy doesn’t remember walking home. Her legs moved, but her mind stayed rooted to the heat of Kael’s breath against her skin.
“I’m not asking.”
It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise. One her body seemed far too eager to believe.
She barely makes it inside before there’s a knock at the back door. The private one. The one no one ever uses.
Her heart leaps and sinks at the same time.
Kael.
She doesn’t ask how he knew where she lived. Somehow, she always knew he would. She hesitates before opening it, still in her oversized hoodie and barely-there sleep shorts. Her hair is loose, damp from a rushed shower, and she smells like coconut and tension.
When she opens the door, he’s there. Leaning against the frame like sin itself—black T-shirt clinging to his chest, veins flexing beneath tan skin, his gaze locked on hers like he already owns the moment.
“Kael—”
“We need to talk,” he says, stepping in without waiting for permission. His eyes flick over her, and something dark and hungry stirs behind the silver.
She swallows. “Now?”
“Now.”
But neither of them moves to sit. Or speak.
The silence stretches, taut and electric.
He closes the door slowly behind him. The soft click feels like a lock on something far more dangerous than just an entryway.
“I don’t like her touching you,” Kael says finally. His voice is deep, rough around the edges. “And I don’t like the way she talks to you.”
“She doesn’t matter,” Ivy murmurs.
His eyes sharpen. “You matter.”
That word—you—snaps something inside her.
She looks up, defiantly, even though her heart is hammering. “Then why keep secrets from me?”
Kael doesn’t answer. Not with words.
He steps closer.
Ivy’s back hits the wall before she realizes she’s moved. He cages her in with one arm, the heat of his body pouring over her. His chest rises and falls, and she can smell the faint scent of pine and smoke clinging to his skin.
She can’t breathe. Doesn’t want to.
His voice is low. Dangerous. “I’m trying not to scare you.”
Her eyes flick to his lips. “Then don’t.”
The space between them collapses. His mouth is inches from hers, his breath brushing her skin. His hand lifts, grazing her bare thigh beneath the hem of the hoodie.
He freezes. Just for a second.
His gaze drops.
Bare skin. The hint of black lace. Her chest rising quickly beneath the fabric. Her n*****s are hard, clearly visible through the thin cotton.
He growls.
Not a warning.
A response.
His hand slides up, resting just above her knee, his fingers curling like he’s holding himself back by a thread. Ivy’s breath stutters, her body already responding, warmth spreading deep and low.
“Kael…”
His name is a whisper, but it wrecks him.
He leans in until their noses brush, his lips hovering over hers. “Tell me to stop.”
She doesn’t.
Her fingers twist in the front of his shirt, tugging him just that last inch.
But he pulls back—barely.
Eyes wild. Breathing hard.
“Ivy,” he growls. “If I kiss you right now, I won’t stop.”
Her nails dig into his chest. “Then don’t.”
His lips crash against hers.
It’s not gentle. It’s raw. Pent-up frustration, fear, desire—everything they’ve both tried to bury.
His hand tangles in her hair as he deepens the kiss, pressing her harder against the wall. Her leg lifts around his hip without thinking, and he groans into her mouth, grinding into her just enough to make her gasp.
Her head spins. Her body pulses.
This isn’t a kiss. It’s a claim.
And she wants it. She wants him.
But just as quickly as it starts—he pulls away.
Breath ragged. Eyes feral.
“I can’t.”
She stares at him, lips swollen, body trembling. “Why?”
His voice is hoarse. “Because when I finally take you… it’s not going to be rushed up against a wall. You deserve more than that. And I want it all.”
Then he steps back.
Ivy doesn’t move. Can’t. Every nerve in her body screams for more.
But Kael only looks at her once more before walking out the back door, leaving the scent of want and wildfire in his wake.
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