Page 28
Story: Loving A Stranger
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**The Lycan Alpha's POV**
The ink smudges beneath my grip.
I scowl down at the pages of my journal, frustration making my hold on the pen tighten until I nearly snap it in two. Writing has never been my way of coping, but it's the only thing keeping me from snapping someone's neck.
From ripping the throats of the pathetic men who dare to stand too close to her.
Tasha.
My mate.
And the woman currently flirting shamelessly with another man right in front of me.
My jaw clenches as I force myself to keep my breathing steady.
It's a battle I've been losing every damn day since I set foot on this campus.
I knew ignoring her would be painful.
I knew keeping my distance would test my strength more than any battle I've ever fought. But I hadn't prepared for this—the sight of her laughing at some guy's lame joke, touching his arm as if it's the most natural thing in the world, letting him look at her like he deserves to.
I grip my pen harder.
He doesn't deserve her. None of them do.
And yet, I sit here. Watching. Enduring.
If I close my eyes, I can hear my wolf howling inside my head, clawing to break free. He's raging, furious with me for allowing this to go on for so long. It takes everything in me to keep him reeled in, to not let the primal urge to claim what's mine take over.
She's testing us, I remind him. She's getting back at us.
I should've known she wouldn't take my avoidance lightly.
Tasha isn't the kind of woman to sit back and sulk. No—she strikes back. She hits where it hurts the most. And she has been doing exactly that, over and over again, making me suffer through every stolen glance, every touch, every coy smile she throws at men who don't even realize they're playing a dangerous game.
I shake my head and exhale slowly, forcing myself to turn away.
Instead, my gaze lands on Mina.
She's not part of the conversation, standing a short distance away as if she doesn't belong in the scene unfolding before us. But she's watching, her eyes trained on Cass.
I narrow my eyes.
At first, I thought she was simply keeping an eye on Tasha, looking out for her as a best friend should. But then I started noticing the way her gaze lingers, how she shifts her stance when Cass is near, how she tries to be subtle about the way she watches him.
She thinks no one sees it.
But I do.
I've known Cass my entire life—he's not just my beta, he's my brother. And though he does a damn good job of keeping his emotions locked down, I've seen the rare moments where his composure slips.
The way his eyes seek Mina out before he can stop himself.
The tension in his shoulders when she's nearby. The way his fingers twitch as if fighting the urge to reach for her.
She's his mate.
I knew it the moment I saw the way he looked at her.
And so does he.
But Cass isn't like me. He's patient. Cautious. He would rather keep his distance than risk overwhelming her. He's waiting for the mating ceremony in a few weeks, waiting for the right moment to let her know the truth.
I smirk to myself.
I'll let him have his way for now. But that doesn't mean I won't have my fun.
Cass notices my stare and raises an eyebrow.
"What?" he mutters, already wary.
I lean closer, keeping my voice low. "You're torturing yourself for no reason. You realize she's been watching you this entire time, right?"
He tenses. "She watches everyone."
I huff a laugh. "No, she watches you. Don't play dumb, Cass. You know damn well she's drawn to you."
He grits his teeth but says nothing.
I grin. "You could make a move, you know. Or are you planning to let the mating ceremony do all the work?"
He shoots me a sharp look. "Unlike you, I have control."
My grin fades. Control.
Right.
Is that what this is? Control?
Because if it is, I'm failing miserably.
I can't take it anymore.
The sound of Tasha's laughter cuts through my thoughts like a knife, and before I can think twice, I'm moving.
I don't know what I'm going to say. I don't know what I'm going to do. But I do know that if I don't put an end to this, I'm going to lose my mind.
My steps are heavy, deliberate, as I close the distance between us. Tasha's back is to me, her attention still locked on that pathetic excuse for a man she's entertaining.
She doesn't even sense me coming.
But he does.
The guy stiffens, eyes darting toward me, and instantly takes a step back.
Tasha turns at the sudden change in his demeanor, and when she sees me standing there, her playful expression vanishes.
For a second, just a fleeting second, I see something else in her gaze—something raw, vulnerable.
But then it's gone, replaced by cool defiance.
He then summoned the courage to say something, "Uh...hey, man. Didn't see you there." I didn't respond. My gaze was locked onto hers, sharp and unwavering.
She arched an eyebrow, feigning indifference. "Something wrong?"
I exhale slowly, keeping my voice steady. "Can I have a word?"
She crosses her arms. "I'm busy."
I clench my jaw. "Tasha."
She lifts a brow, clearly enjoy making me work for it.
He glanced between us, unsure whether to argue or leave.
After a moment, he nodded and muttered a quick goodbye, I almost snapped when he pecked her before walking off, like a silent claim that she's his, then casting me a curious glance which I just shrugged acting indifferent but mentally saved him to the list of those people I'd break their bones for touching her.
Then, with an exaggerated sigh, she turns back to the guy.
"I'll see you later."
My jaw clenched. "You should go." A silent warning that I'm losing my patience.
She asked, who? And I fixed my gaze on Damon.
He doesn't hesitate. He flees.
Smart man.
Good. At least he has some sense.
Now, it was just the two of us.
The tension between us was too palpable.
Tasha faces me again, after watching how her supposed man friend scrambled off like a little boy that he is, with her arms still crossed. "Well? What do you want?"
I stare at her, searching for the woman I know—the one I've spent lifetimes searching for. But all I see is the mask she's wearing, the walls she's put up to keep me out.
She's angry.
Hurt.
And I did that to her.
"You blocked me," I said quietly.
Her expression doesn't change. "And?"
And?
And it feels like you ripped my soul apart.
And it's been hell not hearing your voice in my head, not feeling you there, not knowing if you're okay.
I swallow the words.
Instead, I force a smirk, because that's what she expects from me. "You miss me, don't you?"
She scoffs. "Not even a little."
Liar.
My wolf snarls in protest, but I force him down. I won't break. Not now.
She turned to leave after what felt like years of me just staring at her and I quick held her hands, I can't imagine all the thought going through her mind.
She gently pulled her hands and crossed her arms like she was defending herself from me and tilted her head defiantly. "What's your problem?"
I took a slow step closer. "What exactly do you think you're doing?"
She let out a small laugh. "Oh, so now you see me and don't know what I'm doing? I never knew you were as dumb as much as blind. What do you want?"
I felt my expression darkened. "You're playing a dangerous game, Tasha."
This time she met my gaze without flinching. "No, you are. You're not my dad, don't tell me what to do? Not happening, Not a chance."
My breathing was heavier now, i was trying to hold my emotions back from slipping or telling her about the plan but I tried to explain a bit of it. "You don't understand—" she cuts me off.
"No, it is you, who don't understand," she snapped. I've never seen this part of her, fierce and hot at the same time, my wolf was deriving so much joy from watching me suffer but she continued "What happened to you ignoring my existence? If you're so comfortable rubbing your shameless ways in my face, then why does my interaction with other people bother you so much that you have to come here and act like you care? To be honest, I don't care what you think, just leave me alone and stay out of my way."
I wanted to say something but instead, I stepped even closer, enough to get a whiff of her smell, lowering my voice. "You can keep playing this game, but it won't change the truth."
She tilts her head. "And what truth is that?"
"You belong to me."
For a moment, something flashes in her eyes—something uncertain, something vulnerable. But then she lifts her chin and smiles, slow and wicked.
"We'll see about that," she murmurs.
I exhaled sharply and stepped back. "Do whatever you want, then."
And she retorted back, "Glad we're on the same page," she said coolly before she turns on her heel and walks away, leaving me standing there, fists clenched, chest tight, drowning in my own agony.
I exhale sharply.
This is far from over.
And whether she likes it or not, she will be mine.
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Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
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- Page 9
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- Page 14
- Page 15
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- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28 (Reading here)
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
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- Page 70