Chapter 18 Divided
Sable POV
The air smelled of autumn—leaves crisping underfoot, bonfire smoke curling from the campus quad. Humans reveled in the season with pumpkin-flavored everything, music spilling from dorm windows, laughter ringing out late into the night.
And for the first time since leaving Black Pine, I let myself enjoy it.
It started with coffee. Sam and I sat in the campus café, books spread across the small table, his laptop glowing faintly in the dim light. He was patient where I was sharp, steady where I was restless.
“You’ve got this,” he said, tapping my notebook. “You overthink everything. Just write it the way you say it.”
I snorted. “If I wrote the way I talk, this essay would be nothing but sarcasm and blunt truths.”
He smiled, that soft, careful smile that made his whole face gentler. “I’d still read it.”
I looked away too quickly, pretending to focus on my notes, but my pulse betrayed me.
My wolf did not approve.
Every time Sam’s hand brushed mine when he passed a pen, every time his gaze lingered, every time my chest tightened in that distinctly human way—it growled. Low, warning, unsettled.
Not him, it seemed to snarl. Not ours.
I shoved the feeling down, ignoring the restless pacing beneath my skin. I’d run from the bond for this exact reason—to have the right to choose. And Sam was kind, thoughtful, unshaped by moonlight and blood. He saw me as Sable, not as a Beta’s daughter or a potential Alpha’s mate.
I told myself that should be enough.
One night, after a study session stretched long past midnight, Sam offered to walk me back to the diner. The streets were quiet, the lamps casting golden halos over the paths, our footsteps crunching over fallen leaves.
“You don’t talk much about yourself,” he said.
“Not much to tell.”
“I don’t believe that.” His voice was warm, teasing. “You’ve got shadows in your eyes, Sable. Like you’ve seen too much. You don’t have to tell me, but… I’d listen. If you ever wanted to.”
The sincerity in his tone almost broke me. My wolf clawed at my ribs, furious, desperate, but my human heart ached in a different way.
I stopped at the foot of diner steps, the moment thick with possibility. He stood close enough that I could smell the clean scent of soap and ink on his shirt. His eyes searched mine, not demanding, not assuming—just waiting.
And for a split second, I wanted to close the space between us. To taste freedom in its sweetest form. To choose him.
But my wolf’s growl echoed inside me, sharp and unrelenting. My mate bond pulsed faintly, like a chain tugging across distance. Kier.
I stepped back, the air breaking between us. “Goodnight, Sam.”
His disappointment was soft, almost hidden behind a smile. “Goodnight, Sable.”
I pushed open the diner door harder than I meant to, the bell above it giving a startled clang. Warm light and the scent of frying bacon wrapped around me, but it only made the pressure in my chest worse. Maggie looked up from behind the counter, a question already forming on her lips.
“Everything okay—”
I didn’t stop to answer. I darted past her, my boots scuffing the linoleum, ignoring the curious stares of the two regulars at the corner booth. My breath came too fast, like I’d been running, though it was just a block from campus. My wolf prowled under my skin, restless and unsatisfied.
Not ours.
I took the stairs two at a time, the narrow hallway echoing with the thud of my boots. By the time I reached my apartment door above the diner, my hands were trembling. The key slipped twice before it found the lock.
Inside, the quiet was deafening. No clatter of plates, no hum of conversation—just the faint thrum of the diner below and the hammering of my heart. I pressed my back to the door, sliding down until I was crouched on the worn floorboards, my bag still over my shoulder.
Sam’s face wouldn’t leave me. The softness in his eyes, the steady warmth of him standing so close, the way the world had gone still for that single, dangerous heartbeat when I’d almost—almost—closed the distance between us.
I buried my face in my hands, nails biting my palms. What was wrong with me? I’d left Black Pine to escape this—the expectations, the bond, the constant tug of someone else’s claim on my future. And yet, even here, miles from the pack, Kier’s pull felt like an invisible leash around my ribs.
I wanted choice. I wanted freedom. And for a fleeting second on those diner steps, I’d tasted it.
But my wolf had recoiled like a burned hand, reminding me who I really was. What I really was.
I dragged myself upright and crossed to the small window above the sink. Outside, the streetlamps painted the sidewalk gold, the diner’s neon sign buzzing faintly. Sam was gone now, swallowed by the night. My reflection stared back at me from the glass—eyes too bright, jaw tight, a girl caught between two worlds she couldn’t seem to fit into.
With a shaky breath, I let the blinds fall. “Get it together, Sable,” I whispered to no one. But even my voice sounded uncertain, echoing back at me like a question I didn’t know how to answer.