Chapter 39 Gabriel
Neither Bechora nor Zypher was in her dorm when I arrived, after gathering more of my belongings from my room in Noctus House. Instead, I found Archer lounging on her bed, hands tucked behind his head as he leaned against the headboard, legs sprawled out in front of him.
“Hello, Pretty Boy,” he smirked.
“Where are Bechora and Zypher?” I asked, not giving in to the urge to snap at him.
“Dunno,” he shrugged. “Just you and me, for now.”
My gaze flicked over him again, and my hand reached up for the strap of my bag.
Tightening my grip on it, I tore my attention from him and moved toward Bechora’s closet, deliberately keeping distance between us.
A little over a month had passed since that night in the administration building and the conversation with Bechora after.
That night shifted everything I thought I knew about myself in a way I hadn’t been able to undo.
I’d spent the first week pretending it hadn’t happened.
That I hadn’t enjoyed his lips wrapped around my cock, or been tempted to beg him for release after he’d refused to finish me off.
That Bechora hadn’t named something I’d been trying to bury, because of the weight of expectations I’d thought I’d shed when I bonded her.
It felt easy to cling to the lie, considering it was one I’d spent my entire life telling myself, for about three days.
After that, the truth started to creep in.
The way my attention kept tracking the wolf shifter, whether I wanted it to or not.
The way my body reacted to his teasing before my mind could shut it down.
The way I caught myself replaying that night and wondering what else could have happened.
The second week had been worse. Denial hadn’t held.
Not when Bechora made it a point to reassure me that she didn’t mind.
Not when my thoughts slipped further back to memories I’d thought long forgotten of interest in other males.
Attraction I’d told myself was based on proximity and having my future already planned out for me.
That’d been the hardest part to accept: that it wasn’t specifically Archer who caused the shift.
It was me finally recognizing something that had always been true.
Something I’d buried, ignored, and conveniently overlooked.
The third week had been acceptance. I’d finally stopped trying to deny what I knew to be true.
It helped that Bechora was there to talk about it.
She hadn’t pushed me to talk to Archer and was just there for me while I sorted myself out.
She’d encouraged me to talk to him, of course, but never forced the issue.
Facing him with it felt like something else entirely, and it terrified me in a way I couldn’t explain.
“Wow,” Archer’s voice cut through my thoughts, amused. “You gonna stand in the closet brooding all night or what?”
“I’m not brooding,” I said flatly.
“You’ve been staring at the same shirt for a solid minute,” he replied. “So, unless that’s a new hobby, I’m gonna go ahead and call it brooding.”
I clenched my jaw but didn’t rise to the bait, as I slid the strap of my bag over my head and tossed the bag into the bottom of the closet.
Continuing to ignore him, I squatted down to grab a few notebooks from the bag before crossing the room and placing them on the desk with more force than necessary.
“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Archer asked.
“Nothing,” I bit out. “I just wasn’t aware you’d taken up residence here.”
“Didn’t realize I needed your permission, Pretty Boy,” he smirked.
“You don’t,” I replied, not sure if I wanted to punch the smug look off his face or kiss him. “Just noting the lack of boundaries with our mate’s space.”
“Funny,” he said, shifting slightly so that he was turned toward me. “Pretty sure Bechora doesn’t mind, considering she let me in here.”
“I thought you said you didn’t know where she was.”
“I don’t,” he replied. “Said she had something to do with Vallynn and Dante, didn’t figure it was my place to ask since she wasn’t volunteering the information.”
“I’m shocked you didn’t try to follow her like the lost puppy you are,” I scoffed.
Archer huffed out a laugh. “Careful,’ he said, eyes glinting. “You’re starting to sound jealous.”
“I’m not jealous,” I snapped immediately.
“Right,” he drawled. “And I’m not a wolf shifter.”
I rolled my eyes, but the bite behind it lacked its usual edge. It’d been replaced by a sudden, overwhelming insecurity.
“Why do you do that?” I shot back, folding my arms across my chest like a shield. “Taunt me like this, like you give a damn what I actually think or feel.”
Something in his expression shifted at that, and he moved so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed, feet planted on the floor.
“Is that what you think?” he asked, quieter now.
“It’s what I know, Archer,” I replied. “You push and prod and take, all to get a rise out of me, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why!”
Archer pushed off the bed in one smooth motion, closing the distance between us in a few slow steps. He stopped just shy of pressing against me and lifted his hand to my jaw.
“Then you haven’t been paying attention, Gabriel.
” The way he said my name sent a shiver up my spine.
“Let me make myself clear, since you seemed to need it in more concise terms. You. Are. Mine. As much as Bechora is. You can fight it all you want, but in the end, none of that matters. You know deep down I’m telling the truth.
If I weren’t, you wouldn’t have been so willing to let me suck your cock in the admin building, when we were supposed to be searching the records room. ”
My breath hitched despite myself, my body going rigid at his words as heat flared low in my gut.
“I–”
“Don’t insult me by trying to deny it, Pretty Boy,” he rasped.
“You don’t understand,” I managed to croak out.
Archer’s thumb caressed my jaw, and I fought the urge to turn into his touch.
“So, explain it to me.”
“It’s… This isn’t… Things are complicated. It’s not just about attraction. You stroll in, and suddenly, everything I thought I knew about myself has been upended.”
Archer barked out a laugh. “I’m fairly sure I’m not the only thing that caused that. I seem to recall walking up on your father making threats over Bechora.”
“That’s not the same,” I argued.
“Isn’t it?”
I hesitated because part of me knew he was right.
Bechora had been easier to accept because I’d been conditioned to believe I’d always mate a female, while shoving down any interest in males and pretending it never existed at all.
He waited for me to say something, still stroking my jaw.
Instead, my gaze dropped briefly to his mouth before I could stop it.
A mistake, because the second my gaze dipped, my body reacted.
Heat tore through me, my cock thickening in my pants as the memory of his lips wrapped around me came crashing back in sharp, vivid flashes.
Archer noticed. Of course he did; the wolf rarely missed anything.
“Tell me you don’t want this,” he said quietly. My breath stalled. “Tell me you haven’t thought about what would’ve happened if you’d just been honest with yourself that night.”
"I... I can't," I choked out, my voice barely a whisper. The truth of his words, combined with the rising desire in my body, made it impossible to lie. My gaze drifted up from his lips to meet his eyes, and I saw a mixture of triumph and tenderness there.
Archer’s thumb left my jaw as his hand shifted to cup my cheek. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through me. His other hand found my hip, gently pulling me closer until our bodies were flush against one another.
“Finally giving in, Pretty Boy?” he smirked.
I swallowed hard, words failing me, and nodded.
“Thank. Fucking. Selir,” he groaned. “Because I’ve been thinking about that night every single day since.”
His mouth crashed into mine, a fiery claim that devoured any lingering hesitation.
My hands, which had been frozen at my sides, flew up to grip his shoulders, anchoring myself to him as the world seemed to tilt around me.
I met his fervor with an equal intensity, parting my lips to let his tongue sweep in and explore my mouth.
His grip on my hip tightened, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us, my hardness pressing against his through our slacks. A low groan rumbled in his chest, vibrating through my own, and his fingers tangled in my hair as he tilted my head back to deepen the kiss further.
He broke the kiss, but only to trail a scorching path down my jaw, along my throat, his teeth tugging gently at the sensitive skin there. I gasped, arching into him, my fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulders. "Archer," I whispered, his name a desperate plea.
"Mine," he murmured against my skin, his words a brand. His hand left my cheek, slipping down to the buckle of my belt, and with a soft click, it was undone. The promise of what was to come stole the breath from my lungs.
Archer pulled back just enough so his eyes could lock onto mine, a predatory glint in their depths. His fingers, deft and knowing, toyed with the zipper of my pants. Each slow movement was a deliberate torture, sending shivers through me. I squeezed my eyes shut, biting back a groan.
"Look at me, Gabriel," he commanded, his voice a low growl. “I want to see your face while you accept just how much you want this. Want me.
My eyes snapped open, and his hand moved to free my straining erection. His thumb brushed the tip, tearing an indecent moan from my throat. A slow, wicked smile spread across his face as his hand moved to wrap around me, before he slowlyworked it up and down my shaft.