Chapter 4 Chapter 4
Caleb's POV
"Don't ruin my day, Caleb! I've had enough of your troubles today!"
My mother's voice lashed through the hallway before she shoved me into a room and slammed the door shut, locking it from the outside. I heard the sharp click of the key, followed by her hurried footsteps fading away.
She had seen me drinking and, fearing I might make a scene, had dragged me into the nearest empty room she could find. I fell backward onto the bed, my head spinning from all the alcohol. The world around me felt like it was swaying and the ceiling above blurred into a haze of gold and shadow.
I didn't know how long I lay there, but then… the door creaked open.
Someone had entered the room.
Through my fogged vision, I couldn't make out his face, but the faint scent of his cologne — rich, smoky and clean — cut through the drunken blur. There was something commanding about his presence, something that drew me in like a tide I couldn't resist.
Before I could think, before reason could catch up with my body, I pushed myself up and reached for him. My hands found his chest, solid and warm beneath his shirt. Without understanding why, I pulled him closer until our breaths tangled, and then my lips found his.
The kiss was wild, reckless — born from pain, loneliness, and the desperate need to forget. My heart raced like a drum against my ribs. I could taste the faint trace of wine on his lips, mingling with something I couldn't name.
He didn't pull away. Instead, his hands steadied me, one at the small of my back, the other cradling my head as though afraid I might break.
When our lips parted, I felt his breath brush my skin as he leaned closer, his voice low and uncertain against my ear. For a second, I almost remembered who I was supposed to be. But the ache inside me was louder than reason.
My thoughts blurred into the rhythm of our hearts, the faint scent of his cologne, the warmth of his hands. I didn't know if it was heartbreak or the liquor guiding me anymore. I only knew I wanted to lose myself in the illusion that, for one fleeting moment, I wasn't broken.
As an omega, my body had its own language — one that the alcohol had stripped every defense against. The heat pooling low in my stomach wasn't unfamiliar, but tonight it was sharper, more insistent, the kind that came when an omega's body decided it was done waiting. I couldn't bring myself to fight it.
He seemed to understand what I needed. In the next moment, his hands were working at my clothes, unhurried but certain.
He slid my shirt off my shoulders and unclasped my pants, and they dropped to the floor, leaving me in only my underwear. His fingers grazed the waistband, and I let out a soft sound against his mouth as he kissed me again — slower this time, deeper, like he had somewhere to be and had decided this was it.
He pressed his lips to my neck, then found my mouth again, the kiss hungry and searching all at once.
His fingers slipped beneath the fabric and I gripped the sheets, my breath catching at the sensation. My knees nearly gave out and he caught me before they could, lifting me easily and settling me onto the bed, his hands gentle in a way that didn't match the rest of him.
He undressed and came back to me, and his mouth found the inside of my thigh, warm and deliberate.
I exhaled sharply and held on to the sheets. Maddox had never done this — had always said he wasn't interested, though he'd never had any trouble asking me for the same. But this stranger's mouth moved like he had no agenda except making me come undone, and I let him, fingers curling into the sheets as the tension built and built.
When he finally pressed into me, slow and careful, filling the aching emptiness that had been building all night, I couldn't hold back the sound that left me.
He was patient at first, giving me time to adjust, and when I had, he moved — and I stopped thinking about anything at all.
---
The morning light seeping into the room was what pulled me from sleep. Its warmth brushed against my skin as I blinked groggily at the unfamiliar surroundings, my head pounding from the aftermath of everything I had drunk the night before.
I squinted at the white walls — stickers of hockey boots, ice pitches, and a few trophies stacked neatly by the window. None of it looked familiar, yet something about the faint scent lingering in the air sent my heart racing.
The realization of what had happened hit like cold water. I jerked upright from the bed, only to feel movement beside me.
"You?!"
We both screamed in unison, the sound echoing off the walls.
Ronan was beside me, bare-chested. Disheveled. His expression mirrored the same disbelief twisting inside me. My breath caught as I clutched the sheets tighter to my chest, realizing I was completely bare beneath them.
"This is impossible!" I breathed, my voice trembling. "How could this have happened?"
Ronan raked a hand through his hair, his jaw tightening with visible frustration. "Did you come here to seduce me, knowing I was drunk? Was that your plan? To use me so you could climb the ladder?"
"Excuse you?" I snapped, anger rising like fire in my chest. "You were the one who came to me knowing I was drunk! You planned to use me, didn't you? To humiliate me afterward!"
"Why in the world would I plan to use someone like you?" he retorted, his voice sharp and cold. "What's there in you that I'd ever want to humiliate you for?"
"You pompous, arrogant brat!"
"You wolfless mutt!"
"You disgusting piece of garbage! Jerk!"
"Jerk? How dare you call me that?" he growled, moving closer and grabbing my wrist.
But no sooner had his hand closed around it than he recoiled as though burned, his eyes going wide.
"No… no, no, no," I whispered, panic threading through my voice. Something was terribly wrong.
Before either of us could move, a soft glow shimmered between us. A silver thread of light formed around our wrists, binding them together.
My breath hitched, my pulse hammering as the truth dawned like a cruel joke.
"Impossible," I gasped. "This can't be happening."
Ronan's face had gone pale, his expression mirroring my horror exactly.
The silver light pulsed once more, sealing its mark into our skin.
And in that moment, the realization hit me with brutal clarity.
The Moon Goddess had bound me to him.
My arrogant,
insufferable new stepbrother — the one I had just spent the night with — was my fated mate.
