“No, idiot. I think you just need to guard yourself carefully. Especially you.” His eyes flash with conviction. “Wolves circle men like you. Strong enough to resist, but fragile if you stumble. One wrong step, and you’re theirs.”
The back of my neck prickles. I shift in my chair, forcing a laugh that feels brittle. “You make it sound like everyone’s out to get me.”
Silas doesn’t laugh. “Not everyone. Just the ones who know how to find the cracks.”
Cracks. My mind flashes back to Phoenix’s hand under the table, creeping higher up my thigh where no one else could see.To the way I didn’t stop him. To last night, when I answered the phone instead of letting it ring. He’s already found the cracks and is trying to make them bigger.
I school my face, nodding as if I’m only half listening. “I’ll keep it in mind.”
“See that you do.” Silas leans closer to the camera, his voice dropping lower. “You’ve carried burdens others can’t understand. Don’t let some charming dickhead snake undo you. Promise me.”
The wordsnakecurls like smoke in my chest. I think of Phoenix’s smile, sly and knowing, the way he watches me like he’s already planning the next move. A snake fits him too well.
But the worst part is how much I want to let him coil around me anyway.
I force a nod. “I promise.”
Silas studies me another beat before sitting back. His expression softens slightly, though the weight never leaves his eyes. “Good. Keep me updated.”
The call ends, leaving the apartment too quiet.
I stare at my reflection in the black screen. My jaw tight, my pulse heavy. My brother sees me as someone in need of protection, someone vulnerable to predators. And maybe he’s right.
But even as the shame claws at me, another thought slips through, dark and undeniable?—
If Phoenix is one of those dangerous people Silas warned about, why do I want him anyway?
The question lingers long after I set the phone down, long into the night, until the quiet hum of the city outside feels like Phoenix whispering my name all over again.
I roll onto the couch, phone face-down on the table, but sleep won’t come. My body is restless, my skin alive with memory. Hishand under the table. His voice in my ear. The sharp thrill of giving in when I swore I wouldn’t.
Dangerous, Silas called it. And maybe it is. Maybe Phoenix will burn me down to ash if I let him.
But lying there in the dark, I realize something terrifying:
I don’t care.
5
PHOENIX
Iwake up buzzing.
It’s been two days since the phone call, but the sound of Leander’s voice still curls low in my gut like an ember I can’t stamp out.
I can still hear him, that quiet, reluctant way he breathed into the receiver, the almost-broken hush when I pushed too far. I can’t decide what satisfied me more—dragging those words out of him or knowing he let me.
Either way, I’m starving for more.
All weekend, my mind hasn’t slowed. Every little detail from that night replays when I close my eyes: the way his silence stretched, taut and shaking; the hitch of breath when I told him what I’d do if we weren’t separated by a phone line. He cracked, just enough. And he let me hear it.
That’s the part that’s driving me insane.
Leander—guarded, disciplined, stiff-as-concrete Leander—gave me a piece of his restraint. Not willingly, not completely, but enough that I know there’s more waiting. It’s buried deep under those walls he’s built, but I’ve seen the fracture lines. I’ve touched them.
And today, practice is my stage.
I’ve been plotting since Friday, a whole arsenal of ways to test him. Not obvious enough to tip off the coaches or the rest of the team—just subtle, sharp little needles he’ll feel whether he wants to or not. A shove here. A look there. A comment whispered just close enough to his ear that he can’t shake it.
