Mated To My Stepbrother And His Best friend

EVE.

"Breathe, Eve... Just fucking breathe..."

I'd been whispering that mantra for over two hours now, over and over again, ever since I saw him.

No. No, no, no. There's no way in hell he'd recognize me.

I had a mask on that night. A thick velvet one. And even when it slipped halfway through, they were too busy to notice anything beyond what they were doing to me.

But then... why the hell had he been staring at me without blinking or moving? Like a predator who'd just found the scent of the prey that got away.

His eyes.

God. His eyes.

He'd been watching my every move. His cold, deathly steel grey eyes sent chills down my spine, piercing through layers I didn't even know I had. Every time I dared glance in his direction, he was watching me, almost as if he was waiting for me to run.

I mean... These men have been looking for me for months now. There is no way I'd give myself up to be caught and punished by them. Although the other man didn't show any sign of surprise or anger when he looked at me. He just kept looking blankly at me, almost like he was digging through a fog, trying to place me, but his wasn't as bad and as disturbing as the Alpha's. Maybe because he had the same kind of dark shades he had on that night at the club, and it was making it a bit impossible for me to even tell the exact intensity of his eyes... But from his facial expression, he seemed... clueless?

Saint's eyes weren't just curious. They were freaking confirming!

And that was when I knew I was fucked.

Yes. Saint is the Alpha. And yes, his name is Saint... What an irony for a person who is as dark as a demon. I asked Mum the moment I saw him, and she confirmed to me that he was Saint, my stepbrother. Every drop of blood in my veins froze.

There is no way in hell this monster is my stepbrother.

Wait. No. I had to come up with a solution... I'd rather go back to Lanry Side than be in this pack.

My stomach twisted as I felt the heat of his gaze trailing down my spine again, like a hand brushing my skin without touching me. I had to leave.

I was going to be sick.

"Excuse me," I let out a nervous chuckle as I walked past the kind guests who were fanning around me and Mum, welcoming us into the pack.

I was practically breathing through a straw, and I needed space.

"Where are you going, honey?" My stepfather asked, and I swallowed nervously.

"Uh... I have to use the convenience," I smiled. He was so sweet, and he was nothing like his son.

I could hear the panic in my voice and prayed he couldn't. He nodded toward the far end of the courtyard. "Take the next left after the pillar. Do you want someone to walk you..."

"No!" I blurted out before I could stop myself. "No. I'm good. Thank you."

I turned before he could ask anything else and walked out of the premises, where the monster's eyes trailed my every move.

The moment I stepped into the convenience, I released a breath I had been holding for God knows how long.

My knees nearly buckled.

I gripped the edge of the sink, bent over it like I'd just run a marathon. My chest heaved in frantic bursts. It's not like the air in here was much better, but at least it wasn't thick with his scent and his suffocating presence.

Alpha Saint.

I twisted the faucet and splashed cold water on my face, once, twice, a third time. But it didn't help. My skin was on fire. My heart was trying to claw its way out of my chest.

He knows. He fucking knows. No one can tell me otherwise! God!

My hands trembled as I reached for the hand towel. The shaking was so violent that I dropped it. I stared at my fingers like they belonged to some weak little girl who couldn't keep it together.

Biting my nails – that old nasty habit – came like muscle memory. I pressed the edge of my nail between my teeth, harder than necessary. The sting grounded me. The familiar pressure pulled me away from the spiraling.

Inhale. Exhale. Again.

I glanced up at the mirror, catching my reflection – wide eyes, dilated pupils, flushed cheeks. I looked like prey, and I hated it.

A tear welled up, threatening to betray me.

I wiped it away so fast that it barely touched my cheek.

"No," I whispered. "Not now."

This was supposed to be a fresh start and a new chapter for us. My mother was finally happy again. We were safe. Or so we thought.

I had worked so hard to bury that night. And here it was, digging itself back out from the grave I'd tried to leave it in.

I can't be the one to ruin my mother's happiness. I had to leave and get out of this godforsaken pack.

I'd tell Mum tonight, after the ceremony, that I couldn't stay. I'd cry if I had to, and beg. It wouldn't be easy to convince her because she would never want me to return to the same town where my abusive stepfather was. But I'm certain I'd be able to convince her.

I am so damn grateful that the transfer letter from my old school hasn't been approved yet. That means I am not tied here yet. If I act fast enough, I could go back. I'd show up on Monday and tell them to cancel the transfer. Easy.

I could fix this.

I closed my eyes and took one final, deep breath, bracing myself for the rest of the ceremony.

I unlocked the stall and stepped toward the exit when the main door to the convenience swung open.

I turned, slowly, praying to every God I never believed in that it wasn't...

But it was.

It was him.

He just stood there in the doorway like a shadow carved from stone, his hands carefully tucked into his pockets. He was tall and broad, dressed in black from head to toe, as if mourning something. Or about to bury someone... Me, maybe.

His eyes pinned me in place – those cold, inhuman eyes.

My throat dried. My hands went ice-cold. My back hit the counter without me realizing I was backing away.

I couldn't breathe.

I wasn't even sure my heart was still beating.

His eyes locked on mine like he could see straight through me... straight through the flesh, the bones, into the filth I thought I'd buried deep, into the things I told myself no one would ever remember.

'Say something,' I begged silently. Scream. Threaten me. Do anything. Just speak. Please...

I was seconds away from a full-blown panic attack when he tilted his head ever so slightly and let out the smallest, quietest scoff. Almost amused.

And then, in a voice so low, so deceptively calm, he finally spoke.

"You thieving whore."