POV: Chloe
Dinner was a gorgeous nightmare. The dining room matched the rest of the manor: vast, elegant, and totally suffocating. Candlelight caught the crystal glassware, throwing warm gold across the long table. Somewhere between the soup and the main course, my brain short-circuited because Tristan wouldn't stop staring.
He sat directly across from us, unhurried and composed. One hand rested loosely around his wine glass while the other twirled a fork. He wasn't glaring. It was worse. It was the kind of looking that happened in the gaps between conversations—quick, sharp, and devastating. Like he was cataloging every breath I took and locking the data away. Ethan kept rambling about his graduation plans. I caught maybe every third word.
"Babe, you're quiet tonight," Ethan murmured, bumping his shoulder against mine.
"Sorry, just tired." Another lie for the pile.
He smiled, spearing a piece of food from my plate and lifting it to my mouth with effortless affection.
"Here. You barely touched your food."
I opened my mouth automatically, and the energy across the table snapped.
"Have you two fucked yet?" Tristan's voice was calm, casual. Like he’d just asked about the weather.
I choked. Literally. The wine went down the wrong pipe, and I pressed my fingers to my mouth, hacking so hard Ethan instantly turned to me. His hand landed between my shoulder blades, warm and worried.
"Chloe? Hey, hey..."
Across the table, Tristan watched, deadpan. Only his eyes moved—dark and deliberate—tracking my reaction like a sniper admiring his handiwork.
Ethan flushed slightly pink. He rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish grin that was somehow embarrassed and proud at the same time, which made the whole thing infinitely worse.
"Tris, you can't just..."
"I'm fine," I sputtered too quickly, shoving my chair back. My voice was surprisingly steady considering my lungs were on fire. "Excuse me. Just need a minute."
I didn't wait for a reply. The hallway was cooler, and I blindly navigated it until I found the restroom. I slipped inside, locked the door, and flattened my palms against the wood, trying to remember how to breathe.
"Get it together. He's just a man. He's just..."
The handle rattled. I spun around.
"Occupied..."
"I know." Tristan's voice vibrated through the wood, low and even. Then, impossibly, the lock clicked. He stepped inside, shut the door, and boxed me into the narrow space. Suddenly, the bathroom felt the size of a closet.
"How did you..."
"It's my house, Chloe." He said it quietly, like that explained everything. Maybe it did.
He didn't lunge. He stood with his back against the door, finally looking at me without his mask of indifference. The raw emotion bleeding through his rigid posture made my heart seize.
"Why Ethan?" The question was a soft blow.
"Tristan..."
"Was it on purpose?" His jaw ticked. "Did you know he was my brother? Did you plan this, or did you genuinely not give a shit about what happened to me after you ran?"
Every word hit like a physical strike.
"I didn't know," I whispered. "I swear I didn't know until tonight."
Something shifted in his eyes. Not relief—something far more agonizing.
"Seven years." His voice roughened. "I hunted for you for two years straight, Chloe. Two years. And then I had to force myself to stop because it was destroying me." He took a step forward. "And tonight, you strut in on my brother's arm like it meant nothing."
"It wasn't nothing." My voice broke. "None of this is nothing to me."
"Then why did you leave?"
I couldn't answer. The reason I left was the exact reason I couldn't tell him the truth now. Some secrets were load-bearing walls. Knock them down, and the whole house caves in.
He stalked closer, forcing me backward until the marble counter dug into my spine. He stopped right in front of me. Close enough that his scent—cedarwood and smoke—wrapped around me like oxygen I hadn't realized I was starving for.
Then his gaze dropped to my neck, and the atmosphere shattered.
I watched it happen in real-time. The raw pain on his face vanished, replaced by something ancient, dark, and lethal. His breathing hitched. His jaw locked tight. His eyes glued to Ethan's hickey and froze.
"Tristan..."
He lowered his head, pressing his mouth to my throat. A guttural growl rumbled deep in his chest—a sound that wasn't remotely human. My breath hitched.
"Tristan..."
"That little bastard marked you." The words were distorted, vibrating with feral rage.
Before I could blink, his large hands gripped my waist, yanking me flush against his hard chest. His mouth crashed into my neck, his teeth scraping over Ethan's bruise before sharper fangs pierced my flesh.
Pain flared, instantly swallowed by a hot, dizzying rush. He bit down with lethal precision, sending raw electricity shooting straight down my spine and pooling heavily between my thighs. Heat radiated from his mouth, sinking deep into my veins. I gasped, instinctively clutching his broad shoulders, my fingers twisting into his shirt.
The mate bond ignited like a fucking bonfire. That invisible fist squeezed my heart again, way harder than before. My knees buckled. His arm banded around my waist, holding me up before I even realized I was falling.
Mine.
The word echoed in my skull. Not my voice. His.
Then, a fist hammered against the door.
"Chloe?" Ethan's voice. Panic spiked in my chest. I shoved weakly at Tristan, but he felt like a brick wall. His grip on my waist turned punishingly tight while his lips hovered dangerously close to my bleeding bite mark.
"Chloe?" Ethan pounded louder. "Are you okay?"
"I..." I panted, breathless. Tristan's thumb slowly stroked the curve of my hip beneath my dress, turning my brain to absolute mush.
"You smell like me now," he rasped against my damp skin.
Another knock. "Baby? Why is the door locked?"
Terror exploded inside me. "Tristan," I begged in a frantic whisper. "Please."
But he just stared down at me with those terrifying, possessive eyes, completely unbothered.
Outside, Ethan's voice sharpened. "Chloe, open up. I'm serious, if something's wrong, I'm kicking this down."
That snapped me out of it. Pure panic flooded my veins. I shoved hard against Tristan's chest.
"Please stop."
For a split second, we were frozen. Then, agonizingly slowly, he stepped back. But the dark promise in his eyes swore this wasn't over. Not even close. I dragged in a ragged breath and called shakily toward the door.
"I'm okay, Ethy. Just got a little dizzy."
Silence. Then a heavy sigh. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"You scared the shit out of me."
Guilt twisted like a knife in my gut. "I'm sorry."
"Okay. I'll wait out here." His footsteps retreated.
The second he was gone, I rounded on Tristan furiously. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
His face was a cold mask again, though a feral spark still burned in his irises. "You belong to me," he said quietly.
"No, I don't."
A dark smirk touched his lips. "We'll see."
He walked out, leaving me to pull myself together.
Thunder boomed outside, rattling the windows as I crept back into the dining room. A servant was rushing down the hall, whispering urgently about a mudslide blocking the mountain pass. My stomach dropped to my feet. A few minutes later, Ethan returned, looking pissed.
"The road down is completely flooded," he muttered.
"We can still leave." I pleaded with my eyes.
"You can't," Tristan stated calmly, taking a sip of wine. "The roads are closed for the night."
Every instinct I had screamed at me to run. "I'll book a hotel in town."
"There are no hotels."
Ethan rubbed his neck, looking guilty. "Baby… maybe we should just crash here tonight."
"No." The word slipped out too fast. Both brothers stared at me. Ethan looked confused; Tristan looked quietly amused. I forced my tone to stay light. "I just… don't want to intrude."
"You won't," Ethan promised softly.
Then Tristan leaned in, his voice dropping so low only I could hear. "Stay willingly," he murmured smoothly, "or I tell Ethan exactly how we know each other."
Ice flooded my veins. I stared at him in pure horror.
That bastard.
He held my gaze, perfectly serene, while Ethan sat there completely clueless. I was trapped. I had no way out.
And Tristan knew it.