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I pause, gathering my thoughts. "I've always had to be so serious, so responsible. Liam felt like a breath of fresh air. And... I was lonely. The attention, the validation... it felt good."
I study Marcus's face as I speak, watching the play of emotions across his features. There's understanding there, but also a flicker of something else—concern, maybe even a hint of jealousy.
Marcus shifts, creating a small but noticeable distance between us. His brow furrows as he processes my words. "I appreciate your honesty, Zoe," he says, his voice low and conflicted.
I can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment as I watch him pull away. There's something about Marcus that draws me in—his unwavering loyalty, his quiet strength, the way he carries the weight of responsibility on his broad shoulders. I find myself admiring the sharp line of his jaw, the intensity in his hazel eyes.
A sigh escapes my lips before I can stop it. It's a shame, really. Marcus is everything I never knew I wanted in a partner. His commitment to family, to duty, speaks to a part of me that craves stability after years of uncertainty. And let's be honest, the man is unfairly attractive. Those strong hands, the hint of a smile that rarely graces his lips—it's enough to make my heart race.
I catch Marcus's gaze from across the room, and for a moment, the air between us crackles with unspoken tension. His eyesdarken, and I see a flicker of desire that mirrors my own. But as quickly as it appears, it's gone, replaced by a look of resignation. I know what he's thinking—Liam.
His commitment to his brother is both admirable and frustrating. It's the very thing that draws me to him, yet it's also the barrier that keeps us apart. The irony isn't lost on me, and I have to stifle a bitter laugh. Who knew that finding someone so perfectly suited to me would be so complicated?
Chapter 7
Marcus
The hum of machinery finally dies down as I finish the last system reset. Exhaustion settles into my bones, but a sense of satisfaction lingers. Crisis averted. I roll my shoulders, trying to work out the tension, and glance at my watch. 3:47 AM. Christ.
I look up, ready to tell Zoe we can head out, when the words die in my throat. She's curled up in my office chair, fast asleep. Her pink hair falls across her face, one hand tucked under her cheek. She looks so... peaceful. Vulnerable.
A wave of warmth washes over me as I watch her sleep. Working alongside Zoe tonight has been... enlightening. Her quick mind, her adaptability, the way she threw herself into helping without complaint—it's all incredibly attractive. I've known she was my mate since I first caught her scent, but now, after spending this time with her, I realize just how perfect she is for me.
It's becoming harder to resist the pull I feel towards her. Every fiber of my being wants to go to her, to wrap her in my arms and never let go. But I can't. I won't betray Liam that way, no matter how right it feels.
And yet... a nagging voice in the back of my mind reminds me of Liam's absence tonight. I got him this job at the construction site, pulled strings to make it happen. And he couldn't even bebothered to respond to an emergency. It's not the first time, either. The last couple of years, Liam's been... different. More selfish. More entitled. I've always taken care of him, but lately, it feels like I'm enabling bad behavior rather than helping.
I run a hand through my hair, conflicted. On one side, there's my mate—beautiful, capable, and everything I've ever wanted. On the other, there's my brother—frustrating and immature, but still family. The choice should be clear, but it's harder than ever at this moment, with Zoe right in front of me.
I take a deep breath, trying to center myself. For now, I need to focus on getting us both home safely. The rest... well, I'll have to figure that out later.
I debate waking her, but exhaustion is etched into the lines of her face. No, let her rest. Before I can talk myself out of it, I'm moving towards her. Carefully, I slide one arm under her knees, the other supporting her back. She stirs slightly as I lift her, but doesn't wake, instead nuzzling into my chest with a soft sigh.
The rightness of it hits me like a punch to the gut. She fits against me perfectly, as if she was made to be there. My wolf howls in agreement, urging me to hold her closer, to never let go.
I push the thoughts away, focusing on navigating through the trailer and out to my truck. As I settle her into the passenger seat, I can't help but brush a strand of hair from her face. She looks so young in sleep, reminding me of the age gap between us. Another reason this – whatever this is – can't happen.
The drive back to her apartment is quiet, punctuated only by Zoe's soft breathing. I find myself stealing glances at her, drinking in the sight of her relaxed features. It's a far cry from the guarded expressions she usually wears around me.
When we arrive, I debate waking her again. But the thought of disturbing her peaceful sleep feels wrong somehow. I carefully reach into her purse, fishing out her keys. I find myself once again lifting her into my arms, carrying her up to her apartment.
As I step into Zoe's bedroom, her scent envelops me. The room is small but cozy, filled with personal touches that speak to her creative spirit. A colorful tapestry hangs on one wall, while the dresser is cluttered with an array of beauty products and trinkets. My eyes are drawn to a framed photo on her nightstand—Zoe, smiling brightly, her arms around an elderly woman I don't recognize.
The bed is unmade, the sheets rumpled and inviting. I can almost imagine Zoe curled up there, her pink hair splayed across the pillow. The urge to join her, to wrap myself around her soft, warm body, is almost overwhelming. My wolf stirs restlessly, wanting nothing more than to claim her, to make her ours.
As I lay her gently on her bed, a wave of longing washes over me. I want to crawl in beside her, to hold her close and breathe in her scent. But I can't. I won't.
I turn to leave, my resolve wavering with each step. Just as I reach the doorway, a sleepy voice stops me in my tracks.
"Marcus?" Zoe murmurs, her eyes barely open. "Stay?"
And just like that, my carefully constructed walls begin to crumble. I turn back, caught in the pull of her gaze. Even half-asleep, her eyes hold a power over me I can't explain.
"Zoe," I say, my voice low and rough. "You should rest."
She shifts, propping herself up on one elbow. The movement causes her shirt to slip, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of shoulder. I force my eyes back to her face, swallowing hard.
"Please?" she murmurs, patting the space beside her. "Just... stay."
