I knew fake bonding would be difficult. I’ve never been in a real relationship. Certainly not one that lasted. One-night stands, hookups, flings that burned fast and cold. I don’t count any of those as love. So faking a bond with a pack of stranger, gorgeous alphas should’ve felt impossible.
But it doesn’t. It feels dangerously easy.
Too easy.
There have been too many moments with Evander, with Logan… even with Wyatt’s soft, steady gaze and Kai’s quiet attentiveness. And Harlan, who calls meStarlight,and always seems to know when I need to breathe. Every one of them makes it harder to remember that this isn’t real. That I’m playing a role.
And god, it stings every time I remember.
When I glance up, Harlan’s already looking at me.
“What are you thinking about, Starlight?” he asks, his voice low and slow, as if coaxing me closer. He lifts one hand, smoothing his thumb over the creasebetween my brows. The warmth of it makes my whole face relax, like I’ve been waiting for that single point of contact all night.
I don’t want to lie. But I’m sure as hell not going to tell him I was thinking about how badly I want this to be real. So I go for something safer. Teasing.
“How much more comfortable that bed was compared to the couch.”
His eyes darken.
Not annoyed. Not amused.
Hungry.
It catches me off guard. How fast the heat in his gaze shifts from casual to carnal. For a second, just the briefest moment, I think I catch a whiff of something warm and sharp. Pine, thick and heady, laced with want.
The memory hits hard. The one of crawling into bed last night, feeling the weight of his stare like a physical thing as it tracked over every inch of exposed skin.
Heat climbs up my neck, blooms across my cheeks. I duck into the crook of his shoulder to hide it, hoping it reads as an affectionate moment for the cameras. Judging by the nearbyclick-clickof a shutter, it works.
Then his hand settles at the back of my neck, palm broad, fingers curling just enough to hold. His thumb tilts my chin up with practiced ease.
“I was thinking,” he murmurs, voice pitched low, just for me, “about how much more comfortable the bed was with you in it.”
My knees go soft.
He leans in, slow as sin, trailing his nose along my cheek, then down until his breath brushes the hollow beneath my collarbone. His beard scratches lightly at my skin, and I shiver.
“May I?” he asks, voice rougher now.
I can’t speak so I nod.
He dips his head and nuzzles against me. Dragging in a breath like he’s tasting me. The moment sends sparks down my spine and straight between my legs. I clench my thighs instinctively, a helpless reaction to the way my body lights up like it’s been waiting for this.
It’s been so long. Stress made the idea of intimacy feeloverwhelming. Unsafe.
But this feels dangerous in a different way.
I suck in a shaky breath, trying to get control of myself before the slick pooling between my thighs betrays me.
“Are you all right?” Harlan asks, pulling back just enough to study my face.
"Yes." I quickly, stepping back. I need space. Need air. Need—
He looks like he’s about to ask something else. Something I’m not ready to answer. When a voice cuts through the haze.
Someone calls my name.
“Rose!”
