Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
SOL
I don’t remember deciding to leave.
One second I’m standing on her porch with dirt under my nails and something tight and ugly in my chest, and the next I’m striding away like the ground’s on fire beneath my boots.
I don’t look back.
If I do, I might see it properly.
The air’s sharp with salt and leftover rain, the storm already a memory. Gulls wheel overhead like nothing happened. Like the beach wasn’t feral just hours ago.
Bullshit.
I head for the shoreline, letting the sand drag at my steps, letting the wind bite at my face. I need movement. Distance. Something loud enough to drown out the wrongness crawling under my skin.
I shouldn’t be thinking about her.
About the way she moved slower than usual. About the way she didn’t argue when I grabbed the heavier pots. About the way the scent hit me after I’d already seen the mark.
Not fresh.
Not angry.
Just…there.
Could’ve been anything.
A bruise. A scrape. A clumsy kiss from some idiot who didn’t know when to stop.
My jaw tightens.
I reach the water and stop, staring out at the calm stretch of sea. It looks harmless now. Gentle. Like it couldn’t tear someone apart if it wanted to.
I rake a hand through my hair and exhale hard.
I’m reading into it.
That’s all this is.
She wouldn’t even be on the app if she wasn’t a beta. Registries don’t fuck that up. Filters are strict. Verified. Locked down.
And I didn’t claim her.
I didn’t.
I bite down on the inside of my cheek, grounding myself in the sting.
Just teeth. Just skin. Just heat and adrenaline and a night that went too far.
Nothing that means anything.
I stand there longer than I should, staring at the horizon like it might give me answers if I wait long enough.
It doesn’t.
Eventually, I turn back.
Didn’t look like mine.
The house is already awake when I get home.
Kai’s at the counter, shirtless and smug, elbow-deep in a cereal box like he owns the place. Koa’s sprawled on the sofa, scrolling his phone. Finn leans against the window, eyes tracking the beach.
All three of them look up when I walk in.
“Morning, sunshine,” Kai says. “You look like shit.”
“Feel like it too,” I mutter, kicking my boots off by the door.
Koa squints at me. “You sleep?”
“Enough.”
Finn doesn’t smile. His gaze lingers, sharp and assessing. “You were next door.”
It’s not a question.
“Helping with plants,” I say flatly.
Kai snorts. “Didn’t know begonias got you this worked up.”
I glare at him. He shuts up.
Finn tilts his head. “You alright?”
“I’m fine.”
It comes out too fast.
Something flickers in his expression, but he lets it go, nodding like he’s filed it away for later. I don’t like that look. I don’t like him seeing past the edges I show.
“I’m showering,” I say, already turning toward the stairs.
“Try not to wrestle the foliage this time,” Kai calls after me.
I flip him off without looking back.
Five minutes later, the water’s hot enough to sting.
I brace my hands against the tiles and let it run, head bowed, breath slow and controlled.
That mark.
Couldn’t be mine.
It didn’t look like mine.
I tell myself again: she wouldn’t be on the app if she wasn’t a beta. Systems don’t get that wrong. They can’t. People don’t slip through cracks like that.
And even if—
No.
I crank the water hotter, letting it burn the thought away.
It was just a bite. Just teeth. No claim. No bond. Nothing that matters.
She’s fine.
I just need to stay the hell away from her until whatever I think I saw fades completely.
That’s it.
Problem solved.
So why the hell does it still feel wrong?