Chapter 26
Elena's POV
Stage One: Scent Exchange
Mates share clothing or personal items to intermingle their pheromones.
Stage Two: The Bite
During a heightened emotional or physical moment, one mate marks the other with a permanent bite on the neck or shoulder. This creates a visible, lasting bond.
Stage Three: The Soul Bond
Completed during a full moon in wolf form. This final stage links the mates' life forces, allowing them to sense each other's emotions and location.
At the bottom, Lila had scrawled in her handwriting: "FYI, you and he have already completed Stage One. Just saying. 😏"
My face went nuclear. I shoved the tablet back at her, but she just smirked and whispered, "I'm not wrong."
"It's not—" I hissed under my breath. "It's just a sweater. That's all."
"Uh-huh. Sure." Lila's grin turned wicked. "So if I asked you to give it back right now, you'd do it?"
I opened my mouth. Closed it.
Lila saw it on my face and laughed softly. "Thought so."
"Stop," I muttered, my voice barely audible.
"Okay, okay." She leaned in closer, eyes sparkling with mischief.
---
The presentation ended, and the lights came back on. People started filing out for the mid-session break, voices buzzing with excitement. I stayed in my seat, trying to steady my breathing.
My phone buzzed. Unknown number.
I frowned and opened the message. It was a video file. No text. Just a timestamp from a few days ago. My finger hovered over the play button.
The footage was grainy, black-and-white—security camera quality. The location tag read: The Glitch Bar, East Wing.
My heart stopped.
The video showed me stumbling through the crowd, visibly drunk. My movements were unsteady, my expression unfocused. And then I saw him. A man. Big, predatory, his eyes locked on me as he moved closer.
Before he could reach me, Caleb appeared. He stepped between us in one fluid motion, his arm sliding around my waist and pulling me against his chest. The man froze, eyes going wide. Caleb didn't say a word. He just stared at him, and even through the grainy footage I could see the gold flash in his eyes—brief, unmistakable, dangerous. The man turned and walked away.
Oh my God.
But the video didn't stop there. The next part made me hold my breath.
I watched myself turn in Caleb's arms, hands sliding up to loop around his neck. I pressed my face into the curve of his throat, nuzzling like a cat seeking warmth. His body went rigid, hands hovering uncertainly in the air. And then—oh God, oh no—I started trying to bite his shoulder.
Caleb grabbed my shoulders, pushing me back gently but firmly. He held me at arm's length, jaw clenched, eyes squeezed shut like he was in pain. The final frame showed him scooping me up in his arms, my face buried in his neck, and carrying me toward the exit.
The video ended.
I stared at the screen, my pulse roaring in my ears.
Another message came through from the same unknown number:
"Boss told me to delete this. But I thought you should know what really happened that night. — Hector"
The blurry memories of that night kept becoming clearer.
The break couldn't end fast enough, and yet it was ending too soon. I sat frozen in my seat, staring at my phone screen with my heart hammering so hard I could barely hear the chatter around me.
The video was still there, paused on the final frame—Caleb carrying me toward the exit.
My thumb hovered over the lock button, but I couldn't make myself press it.
"Elena." Lila's voice cut through the fog, sharp and knowing. "What are you looking at?"
I jerked, fumbling with the phone, but my fingers were shaking and I hit the wrong button.
The screen flashed bright—Caleb's profile filling the display. Lila leaned in before I could stop her, and I watched her eyes go wide, then narrow with interest.
"Is that—" She glanced toward the stage, where Caleb stood talking with the professor, then back at my screen. "Oh my God. That's him, isn't it? The guy from the bar?"
My face went nuclear. I finally managed to lock the phone, clutching it against my chest like that would somehow undo what she'd seen.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, which was possibly the worst lie I'd ever told.
Lila's grin turned wicked and delighted. "You are such a terrible liar."
She sat back with this satisfied expression like she'd just solved a particularly interesting puzzle. "So the guy who gave you his sweater, the one you won't stop thinking about, is the same guy who pulled you out of that bar and—" She paused, eyes gleaming. "What exactly happened that night, Elena? Because you've been weirdly cagey about the details."
"Nothing happened," I said quickly, which was technically true and also completely false, because even though nothing physical had happened in the way she was implying, everything had happened in ways I still didn't fully understand.
The break timer chimed, sharp and sudden, and I flinched. Conversations died down as people started returning to their seats, and I made the mistake of looking up toward the stage.
The afternoon sun had shifted, streaming through the high windows at an angle that turned everything golden, and there he was—Caleb, standing with the professor, his profile caught in that light like something out of a painting.
Then he turned his head, as if he felt my eyes on him, and our gazes collided across the length of the conference hall. For one suspended moment, the whole world narrowed to just that—his eyes on mine, dark and unreadable.
I jerked my eyes away, hands already moving to shove my notebook and phone into my bag with more force than necessary. "I need to go," I said to Lila, not looking at her, not looking at anything. "I have to get back to the dorm."
"Elena—"
"I'll see you later." I was already standing, already moving toward the aisle, and I didn't let myself look at the stage again.
The moment I was out in the hallway, I broke into something close to a run.