Chapter 12: Distance I Keep Breaking

Riven's POV

Next day I headed to class with my hands casually tucked in my jeans pockets, trying to look like I didn’t give a damn about anything.

The sun was already warm on my back, campus buzzing with students rushing between buildings. I kept my head down, earphones in but no music playing. Just needed the noise blocked out.

Then I saw her.

Kathy stood a little ways ahead with her two friends, Lina chatting away with wild hand gestures and Kai nodding quietly beside her. She looked lighter today, laughing at something one of them said. My steps slowed without meaning to. The second she spotted me her smile faltered. She turned away fast, back to her friends like I was nothing more than background.

A pang of guilt hit me square in the chest. Sharp. Unwanted. I kept walking anyway.

We had a shared class. Ancient Werewolf Lore or some title like that. The kind of course that dug into old bloodlines and forgotten rites. I slipped into the lecture hall and took a seat two rows above her. Close enough to see the back of her head, far enough that I could pretend I wasn’t watching.

The professor started talking but his words blurred into static.

The professor paced slowly in front of the board, his voice carrying that deep, rhythmic tone professors get when they’re talking about something older than the walls around us.

“In the earliest packs, the bloodlines weren’t just about strength or dominance. They were living archives. Some wolves carried memories that didn’t belong to them — fragments of ancient rites, forgotten pacts, even pieces of power that should have died with their ancestors…”

He learned on the podium. “...These latent shifts weren’t always dramatic. Sometimes the wolf stayed quiet for generations, waiting for the right blood to wake it. But when it stirred…” He paused, tapping the chalk against the board where he’d drawn a faded rune. “It didn’t come gently. It came hungry. And the host rarely survived the awakening unchanged.”

My eyes stayed locked on the back of her head even though I told myself to stop. The professor’s voice droned on somewhere far away, but all I could hear was the sound of my own fists hitting the bag last night.

Then the image slammed into me again — Kathy standing there in the shadows, books scattered at her feet, mouth slightly open, those warm brown eyes wide with surprise and something else I didn’t want to name.

The way her hair had fallen messily around her shoulders, catching the faint light, that faint gold tint in her eyes flashing when our gazes locked. Her lips parted, the bottom one caught between her teeth as she stared at my bare back, at the tattoos I never let anyone see.

I remembered the way her breath hitched when I walked closer, how she clutched those stupid books to her chest like they could protect her from whatever pull was dragging us together.

The nervous ramble that spilled out of her afterward, the soft “I’m Kathy” that still echoed in my skull. And then me — walking away like a coward, even when she shouted after me. The hurt in her voice. The anger. The way my own chest had tightened because some stupid, weak part of me wanted to turn around and answer her.

Damn it, I couldn't control my thoughts anymore. Get it together, Riven. I screamed to my brain.

My eyes stayed glued to Kathy. She shifted in her seat, nervous, scribbling notes that probably made no sense. I could feel her awareness of me, that same pull humming between us even with the distance. She kept adjusting her hair, tapping her pen, pretending to focus. It made something twist low in my gut.

Class dragged on forever. Every time she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear or leaned over to whisper something to Lina, my attention snapped right back.

I should’ve been taking notes.

Should’ve been anywhere but here thinking about how her lips looked when she bit the bottom one last night.

When the bell finally rang, students started filing out in a messy wave. I grabbed my bag and headed for the door, telling myself to keep moving, don’t look, don’t care.

Then I saw her meet up with Zayden just outside.

My jaw clenched hard. I should’ve just ignored them. Turned the other way and kept walking like I planned. But my feet slowed. Zayden said something that made her smile, that soft, easy smile she never gave me.

He reached out and helped her gather her textbooks, their hands brushing for a second. She looked comfortable around him. Free. Like she could breathe without everything feeling heavy.

Jealousy flared hot and ugly in my chest. Someone else making her smile like that. My cousin, no less. The one who always seemed to do everything right without trying.

I stopped myself before I took another step toward them. What the hell was I doing? Hadn’t I told myself to stay away from her? To keep that distance no matter how much it pulled? She didn’t need my mess. She had enough on her plate without me adding to it.

So I turned the other way.

My shoulders stayed tight as I walked off in the opposite direction, hands shoved deeper into my pockets. The guilt from earlier mixed with the jealousy until it all felt like one heavy knot I couldn’t untie.

She was better off with Zayden anyway. He was steady. Calm. The kind of guy who didn’t punch walls in the shower or carry around anger like a second skin. I was the opposite. Reckless. Detached. The one who pushed people away before they got too close.

Still, the image of her smiling at him stuck in my head like a splinter. I hated how much it bothered me. Hated that I even cared.

I kept walking, putting more space between us with every step. The pull was still there, tugging at my ribs, whispering that turning away was the wrong move. But I ignored it. I had to.

Because getting close to Kathy Moonfall would only end one way.

With me breaking something I couldn’t fix.