Page 10 of Forbidden Mischief

ZAYNE

The car ride home is silent, the tension in the car is thick. The only sounds are the hum of the engine and my own ragged breathing, which I can’t seem to control.

I keep stealing glances at Asher, trying to ignore the way my body feels when I see him.

He’s sitting in the front seat, his posture stiff, his eyes glued to the window.

It’s like he’s trying to put distance between him and everyone in the car.

I don’t know what the hell is going on inside my head, but it’s not normal. I can’t stop thinking about him.

I keep replaying the image of his wolf in my head.

His wolf, when he shifted, was magnificent.

Massive, dark, and sleek, with eyes that glowed like embers, fierce and wild.

It was like a part of me recognized it—felt a strange pull, but that can’t be right, can it? This isn’t how I’m supposed to feel.

I’ve never thought of another guy this way. Hell, I’ve never thought of another guy, period. I’m straight. But when I saw Asher, when I saw him shift, something inside me twisted in ways I don’t understand.

He’s my stepbrother. And yet here I am—heart pounding, body on fire for him. First, I’m having sex dreams about him, now this?

What the hell is happening to me? This isn’t supposed to feel this way.

I try to shake it off, tell myself it’s just the adrenaline, the proximity, or maybe the fact that he’s in my space all the time now.

But the truth is, none of that explains why every time he looks at me, my stomach flips.

Or how, when he shifts, I can't tear my eyes away from the way his muscles move, the strength radiating off him.

No, this is something else. Something I don’t know how to deal with.

I push the thought aside as best I can, focusing on keeping up, not letting him see just how messed up I feel.

I shift uncomfortably in the back seat, trying not to let Alice see the war going on inside me. She’s quiet too, her eyes flicking between me and the road as we drive through the thick trees that surround our family’s property.

When we pull into the long gravel driveway and reach the porch of our log home, I feel the stress in the air. My dad’s tall figure is leaning against the porch railing, waiting for us. His gaze is steady, and a soft smile pulls at his lips when he sees us.

The usual comfort I feel when I see my dad isn't there, though. Something feels off, like the air has thickened, and I’m suddenly too aware of everything around me.

Will he sense these strange new thoughts I’m having of Asher?

What if Asher tells him I was staring at his cock when he shifted back to his human form?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Asher is still sitting silently in the front, I steal one last look at him before my hand tightens on the door handle. I feel a knot in my stomach, an unsettled feeling I can’t shake.

“Boys,” Alice says softly, pulling my attention back to her. She reaches for my hand and squeezes it lightly. “Let’s go inside. We need to talk.”

I nod, my mind still reeling from everything that had just happened.

Asher doesn’t move until Alice gets out and reaches his side of the car.

Dad’s standing on the porch, his smile warm as he greets Alice with a kiss on the cheek, but my focus is elsewhere.

Asher’s right behind me, and every step he takes sends a shudder through me.

He smells so damn good—like rain and forest, like something wild and free, something untamed that calls to me.

I can’t understand why that’s affecting me so much.

The silence in the house feels louder than ever. Alice motions for me to sit at the kitchen table, and I do so without a word. Asher hesitates by the door, his eyes on me, like he’s unsure of what to do next.

“Asher, love?” Alice calls softly. “Come on, sit. Dexter, you too.”

Dexter sits beside Alice, his gaze shifting between Asher and me. It’s like everyone’s waiting for something to happen, like they all know something that I don’t.

But they don’t. They can’t

They don’t know what’s going on inside me. They don’t know how I dream filthy hot dreams involving my stepbrother. How, ever since he shifted on the field, my skin burns with this gnawing need I can’t explain.

Asher takes a seat next to me, but he’s still distant. I want to say something to him, but the words feel stuck in my throat. I feel like I’m losing my grip on something I can’t even name.

And then it happens. Asher calls my name, his voice barely a whisper, yet it cuts through my thoughts like a knife to butter.

“Zayne,” he says.

I look up, my eyes meeting his, and I see something there—a flicker of vulnerability. A flicker of… something else. He inhales sharply, his body tense. “I need to talk to you. Alone.”

Alice glances at Dexter, her expression unreadable, before she speaks. "Why don’t you two go out on the porch and talk? I need to speak to Dexter anyway." Her voice is calm, but there's a weight to it that makes me feel like this conversation is more than just casual.

Dad nods, his gaze shifting between Asher and me, but he doesn’t say anything. Asher and I exchange a brief look, then both of us stand, the sound of our chairs scraping the floor almost too loud in the quiet room.

We make our way to the door, the cool late autumn air greeting us as soon as it swings open.

I step onto the porch, my senses instantly heightened.

The sky is growing darker, a swirl of purples and oranges as the day slips into night.

The air feels charged and I can’t shake the feeling that something is on the verge of changing.

I sit on the porch swing, trying to relax, but I can’t. There’s a tension between Asher and me I can’t ignore. Asher paces in front of me, his fists clenched, like he’s struggling with something.

I want to reach out, to tell him it’s okay, but something holds me back. I’m not sure what’s happening, but I feel the shift in the air, the unspoken words between us.

Finally, Asher stops pacing, and when he looks at me, his eyes are dark, stormy. There's a crack in his usual coolness, a vulnerability that makes my breath catch. I wait, heart pounding in my chest.

“Zayne…” he starts, his voice barely above a whisper. But then he falls silent, like he’s trying to find the words.

My stomach tightens. I don’t know why, but I feel like this is important—whatever it is, I have to hear him out.

However, I’m about to lose my fucking patience.

He’s not talking, and I feel like he’s keeping something from me.

My whole body feels like I’m about to be set ablaze and being this close to him and alone has my cock hardening painfully in my pants.

“I…” he starts again, his voice shaky this time. “I need you to understand something.”

“Asher,” I snap, my voice steady but sharp. “Spit it out. I need to know what the hell is going on.”

He looks at me and the world around me seems to fall away, and all I can focus on is him—his breath, his eyes, the way the air between us crackles.

“I don’t know how to say this,” Asher mutters, his eyes flickering to my lips and then away. “But I need you to know that... I’m your mate.”

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, I don’t know how to respond. My chest tightens, and I feel like I’ve been sucker-punched. Mate? I can barely process it.

My mind goes blank, confusion flooding in. “What the fuck did you just say? I?—”

“I’m sorry,” Asher interrupts, his voice trembling. “But it’s the truth. My wolf... He knew you were meant to be mine. And I can’t deny it. We’re mates, Zayne.”

My mind goes blank. It doesn’t make sense. This doesn’t make sense. I’m straight. This is insane. But then, everything inside me starts buzzing with his words—his wolf chose me. What the hell does that even mean?

“You’re... you’re what?” I choke out. My thoughts are scrambled, and there’s this heat building up inside me, like anger and confusion mixing into one giant knot in my gut. Everything feels off, out of control.

Asher steps forward, his expression painful. “I know it’s a lot to take in, Zayne. Believe me, I’m trying to figure it out too. But you can’t fight fate. I can’t fight it. I don’t want to fight it.”

I swallow hard, the air thick between us.

Heat rises in my chest, tightening my throat like a vice.

This isn’t happening. It can’t be. He’s my fucking stepbrother.

What the hell am I supposed to do with this?

I want to punch something, scream, break everything in sight, but I can’t.

I don’t know how to handle this—how to handle him .

He’s a he. What’s more, he’s not some random guy. He’s Asher. My stepbrother. This is so fucked.

I take a deep breath, but it doesn’t help.

My body burns with this gnawing desire I don’t want to feel.

I shouldn’t feel it. But when I look at him—see the pain in his eyes, hear the sincerity in his voice—I start to believe him.

My hand twitches, wanting to reach out. The feeling pulls at me, tempting, dangerous.

I nod, though I don’t know why. It’s like my body’s reacting before my brain can even catch up. My heart races in my chest, blood thundering in my ears. Fuck, what’s happening to me?

And then, my mouth opens, and what comes out surprises the hell out of even me.

“Okay,” I say, my voice rough.