Chapter 3
Holly
I turned and ran.
Gravel scattered beneath my feet, sharp cracks echoing through the silent alley. His voice came from behind me.
"Holly!"
That voice—deep, rough, carrying the same magnetism it had ten years ago, like a hand squeezing my heart tight.
But I didn't stop. I ran like hell, heart pounding so hard I thought it would burst. The air in the alley was ice-cold, slicing into my lungs like knives. Broken bricks, scattered trash, puddles—I didn't bother looking where I was going, just charged forward.
The bond yanked at me from inside, like an invisible rope coiled around my heart, dragging me back toward him. My wolf was howling, demanding, roaring—Why are we running? That's our mate! Go back! Go back to him!
But I couldn't. I wouldn't. I clenched my jaw and pushed harder.
Footsteps sounded behind me. Light, but I heard them clear as day. He was chasing me.
Ahead, the alley curved. Just around that corner—just out of this damned alley—I could—
The footsteps stopped. My heart lurched. He stopped? No. Impossible.
The next second, something swept past me, blocking my path. I couldn't brake in time and crashed straight into him, into that solid, warm chest.
"Ugh—" A grunt escaped me as I slammed against him. But he didn't budge, like a wall. And I was the moth that had just flown into it.
My hands pressed against his chest instinctively—trying to push away, trying to escape.
But the moment I touched him—electricity.
An electric current exploding from the point of contact, shooting through my entire body.
From my fingertips, up my arms, across my shoulders, all the way to my heart.
My breath caught, my heartbeat stuttered, time stopped.
His chest was hard. Through the jacket and T-shirt, I could feel the firm muscle underneath, warm and solid, rising and falling slightly with his breathing—and his heartbeat. Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump—as fast as mine, as wild as mine.
In my panic, I looked up, trying to catch some matching confusion on his face. But there was nothing. His hands stayed in his coat pockets, not steadying me, not pushing me away, just watching. Looking down at me.
Light from a streetlamp behind him cast shallow shadows across his face. Light and shadow wove together, carving out that face I'd deliberately tried not to remember, and those pale blue eyes—like the sky at dawn, like sunlight piercing seawater. Like... Lilina's eyes.
That brief moment stretched into an eternity. I froze there. Too close. Close enough to see his thick lashes, the faint shadow they cast on his eyelids. Close enough to smell him—that warm scent of amber resin.
The scent hit my instincts head-on, made my wolf moan with satisfaction: Mate. This is our mate.
My hand was still pressed against his chest. Beneath my palm, his heat burned through the fabric. I should push him away, should leave, should run. But my body wouldn't obey. The bond pulled frantically between us. It whispered: Get closer. Touch him. Kiss him. Make him ours. Forever.
Theodore's Adam's apple bobbed. The movement caught my attention, my gaze drawn to his throat—the elegant line of it moving with his swallow. I remembered how it felt, because I'd kissed him there once, and he would make low, rough sounds when I did.
"Long time, Holly." He broke the silence, his voice low, rough, controlled. That control made it sexier, like he was holding something back, ready to explode any second.
I snapped back to reality and stepped back to create distance. But the wall was right behind me, the cold, rough surface against my back. And he still stood in front of me, blocking my way, caging me in. This position forced me to look up at him.
"Let me go." My voice shook. The second the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Damn it, I said it wrong.
Sure enough, Theodore's mouth curved into a half-smile. "I'm not touching you," he said.
"Move." I didn't want to waste words on him.
The resin scent from him grew stronger. Theodore leaned down, his shadow swallowing me completely.
"Actually, you could leave. Walk around me. Just go." His voice was rough, scraping across my eardrums. I bit my lip and squeezed my knees together—the gesture shamed me, but that's what the bond did. Fuck.
"Why don't you just walk away, Holly?" My name came out with his breath. I was grateful for the wall behind me holding me up, or I'd have lost it completely.
"Get... away from me!" God knows how hard it was to get those words out. My wolf was leaping, the bond's pull kept intensifying, and in the air our pheromones tangled together—everything, everything was pushing me to do what I did ten years ago: throw myself into his arms.
What was worse, Theodore seemed completely unaffected. He even had the mood to tease me, like my discomfort pleased him—that part hadn't changed at all.
Theodore finally pulled his hands out of his pockets. I tried to warn him with my eyes, but those hands grabbed my waist, his palms covering it completely. Almost instantly, a moan slipped from my mouth. I cut it off fast, but Theodore still laughed softly: he'd heard every bit.
Theodore leaned in closer. "Ten years," he said quietly. "Ten years. Didn't you think about me at all?" His fingers tightened gradually, gripped, then slowly worked backward until his arms circled my waist completely. Then he yanked me hard against him.
The question was a knife stabbing straight into my heart.
Did I think about him? I didn't want to admit it, but the truth was, I thought about him every day.
Every sleepless night, every time I looked at Lilina's eyes that were exactly like his, every time I saw a man with golden-brown hair on the street, I thought about him.
Where he went, why he left, whether he still remembered me, whether he'd come back.
But I couldn't say it. I could never let him know.
"No," I said, trying to sound cold. Then, to prove myself, I stared straight at him, deliberately emphasizing each word. "Not once."
Theodore's eyes darkened. "You're lying," he said.
"I'm not—" The rest drowned in his breath. Theodore silenced me with his mouth.
I froze for a second. When I realized what he was doing, I shoved at him desperately, trying to break free, but he only held tighter with one arm, deepening the kiss.
His tongue swept across the roof of my mouth, and I held my breath, instantly losing the strength to resist. His hand kneaded the skin and soft flesh at my waist. My wolf was screaming, my sanity slipping away.
Until—I caught sight of the she-wolf behind Theodore. She'd already leaped up. I could only see her hind legs flash past the wall before she disappeared completely.
Nelly.
I'd almost forgotten. She came here to meet Theodore. And Theodore, this homewrecker Jackson couldn't find, was right now holding me and kissing me senseless.
The thought was like cold water, bringing instant clarity, nausea rolling in my stomach. My fist moved faster than thought, cracking into Theodore's face. He hadn't expected it at all and let out a howl, stumbling back a few steps, hand covering his left cheek, staring at me in disbelief.
The expression and gesture were almost comical, but I wasn't in the mood to laugh. I turned and left. This time, nothing stopped me.
I walked out of the alley, back onto the main street, and flagged down a cab. The car headed toward Rose Heights, everything outside the window falling away behind us. I leaned back in the seat and closed my eyes wearily, my head full of what had just happened. And that kiss.
My lips were swollen. Theodore had bitten and nibbled like a wolf pup, which only fueled my anger: to cover for Nelly, he'd really put in the effort. And he had the nerve to ask if I'd thought about him, while he was busy meeting his new girlfriend.
I took a deep breath, barely suppressing the turmoil inside. So what I needed to do next was arrange Theodore's "soulmate," then get photos and send them to Nelly. Why didn't Shakespeare base his work on my life? It would've been way more dramatic than anything he wrote.
The car stopped at Rose Heights. I paid, got out, my brain a mess, just wanting to rest. I entered the building and took the elevator up. The hallway was quiet, only my footsteps echoing.
At the door to 502, I pulled out my key. But the moment the key slid into the lock—my wolf suddenly growled a warning. I went on alert instantly, every sense on high alert: sounds from inside the door. Faint, but unmistakable. Breathing. More than one person. At least two. They were waiting for me.
I turned the key slowly and pushed the door open.
The second it cracked open—two figures lunged from the darkness!
I jumped back instinctively, dodging the first attack.
But the second person was faster, fist flying at my face.
I sidestepped, grabbed his arm, and twisted hard.
Bone cracked. He screamed but immediately came at me again.
Werewolves. Both of them. And trained.
The first came from behind. I didn't have time to turn, just rolled forward, barely avoiding the strike. But the second already blocked my path. I was surrounded.
"Who sent you?" I asked, dropping into a fighting stance.
Neither answered. They just exchanged a glance, then attacked simultaneously!
Fists, feet, elbows—I dodged what I could, fought back when I could.
But I still took several hits. My ribs flared with pain, my lip split, the taste of blood spreading in my mouth.
This wasn't working. I'd die like this. I had to—
Right then, a figure burst from the stairwell, fast as lightning. One kick sent one attacker flying, then he spun around, fist connecting with the other's face. The guy slammed into the wall hard enough to crack it.
Theodore. He stood in front of me, between me and those two.
"Wrong target," he said, voice ice-cold.
The one who'd been kicked got up and wiped blood from his mouth. "We got the right one," he sneered. "It's her."
"Why?" Theodore asked.
"None of your business."
"It is now," Theodore said, his presence turning dangerous. "Because you touched someone you shouldn't have."
The two attackers exchanged looks, seeming to hesitate. Tension hung thick in the air. I stared hard at the two werewolves. The one on the left was still wheezing from that kick, but his hand covering his chest suddenly moved:
"Watch out!" I screamed. White light flashed from the guy's chest as he swung a dagger and lunged at Theodore. In the hallway light, I saw black smoke curling from the blade's tip. Wolfsbane.
My heart seized, and I moved instinctively to jump in front and block it.
But Theodore was faster. He was instantly in the guy's face, grabbed his wrist, and twisted hard.
Snap. Bone breaking. The dagger clattered to the floor.
Theodore kicked it away, then drove his fist into the guy's stomach.
The guy doubled over. Theodore grabbed his hair and yanked down hard—his knee came up, straight to the face.
The sound of his nose breaking was crisp and clear.
The guy staggered back into his buddy's arms. They locked eyes and made a fast decision: the hallway window shattered as they disappeared into the night.
Crisis temporarily over. The hallway returned to its earlier quiet, just me and Theodore, and blood spattered on the floor.
Theodore turned to face me, his gaze dropping to my arm. "You're hurt."
Only then did I notice a shallow cut on my left arm, blood slowly beading up. Probably got scraped during the fight. He stepped forward and grabbed my wrist without asking. His fingers were warm, but the touch made me shiver all over.
"Just a scratch." I tried to pull my hand back, but he held tighter.
"Can't be careless even with small wounds." He examined it carefully, his breath brushing my skin, setting off tremors through me. Theodore's thumb gently stroked the inside of my wrist, an overly intimate gesture.
"Looks okay," he said quietly, but his gaze stayed locked on my wound. Or rather, on my skin.
I yanked my hand back and stepped away, breaking the dangerous intimacy.
"You can't stay here. It's not safe," Theodore said, his expression serious, as if his earlier behavior had only mattered to me.
"I can go to a hotel."
"Hotels aren't safe either." He shook his head. "If they found you once, they'll keep looking until they finish the job."
"So where do you suggest? A police station?" I shot back, irritation creeping into my voice.
"Police won't work. You don't have evidence." Theodore analyzed it seriously. "So you'd better—Come with me."
I stared at him. He looked puzzled. "What? You don't even trust me? I'm your brother, remember?" He'd switched back to that mode, shoulders shrugging, tone flippant.
"Only legally," I stressed.
Theodore didn't respond. He flashed that charming smile. Charming, yes. Even now, even as I snapped back at him, my heart pounded wildly. I couldn't help being drawn to him—his eyes, his voice, the way he protected me, and that kiss in the alley—it all pulled me in.
It had to be the mate bond.
But I was more rational now than before: he'd left without a word, now suddenly reappeared.
His actions protected me, sure, but that didn't stop him from hooking up with a new girlfriend: getting cozy with Nelly.
I hadn't forgotten the deal with Jackson.
And I wouldn't make the same mistake again, wouldn't trust him again, fall for him again, and then. .. get hurt.
So this time, I was in control. I'd use the bond, finish this last job, take my daughter, and leave him for good.
"Fine."
Hearing me say that, Theodore's eyes lit up. He bowed slightly. "My car's been waiting downstairs, ma'am."
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