chapter sixteen

Ralph's POV 

The sun had barely risen, casting long shadows over the campus as I walked through the halls of the school. The usual buzz of students filled the air, but my mind was elsewhere on Liam, and what had happened between us the night before. The weight of it was suffocating. He'd left, hadn't even given me the chance to explain. I knew I had to do something. Something that would force his hand, make him listen to me.

I reached Liam's locker and paused for a moment. My fingers tightened around the small, folded letter in my hand. Inside, I'd written exactly what I needed to say, though I knew it wasn't going to be enough. I needed him to come to me, to understand what was happening between us, whether he liked it or not.

I dropped the letter inside, then took a deep breath. The ball was in his court now.

The day passed slowly, each second dragging on like a lifetime. But when the final bell rang and students spilled out of the classrooms, I found myself waiting, standing at the edge of the school grounds, heart pounding in anticipation.

And then I saw him.

Liam.

He was walking toward me, his steps hesitant. There was no mistaking the uncertainty in his gaze, the wariness in his every movement. I didn't blame him. Hell, I wasn't sure what I was doing either, but this... this bond, this pull between us? I couldn't ignore it any longer.

"Liam," I said, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. "I'm glad you came."

He looked at me for a long moment, searching my face, clearly weighing his options. Finally, he nodded, though there was a visible hesitation in his expression. "What do you want?" His voice was tight, guarded.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to keep my cool. "There's something I need to tell you," I said, hoping the lie would at least give me time. "About what the witch said. We need to be somewhere private."

He nodded, and we walked together to a secluded part of the school grounds, away from the prying eyes of our classmates. I led him to a hidden spot deep in the forest, a place I'd found years ago. It was calm, quiet, far from everything and everyone.

When we arrived, I turned to face him. He stood a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest as if trying to shield himself from the situation.

"Sit," I said, gesturing to a fallen log. "We need to talk."

He hesitated again but finally complied, sitting down, though there was an air of discomfort about him. I could feel the tension between us. We were both on edge.

"I know this is all... a lot," I began, my words faltering a bit. "The bond, the war, the witch. But there's something you need to understand. It's not just fate. It's—"

I broke off when I saw his eyes. The bond. It was undeniable. He was fighting it, but I could feel the pull, the undeniable tug between us.

Before I could say anything else, silence settled over us. The quiet was heavy, and I felt the urge to bridge the gap between us.

I moved closer. Liam didn't pull away, though I could see the uncertainty in his eyes.

And then, in a moment that felt like it was both slow and fast at the same time, I leaned in and kissed him.

He froze for a heartbeat, but then his lips softened beneath mine, and I took that as my cue. My hands went to his back, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. It felt like a wild rush, like I was finally doing what had been hanging in the air between us all along. But then, something shifted.

Liam pulled away, his breath coming faster. His face was flushed, his lips red. I could see the panic in his eyes. "Ralph, stop. This... this isn't right."

But I didn't stop. I couldn't. The bond the pull—was too much, too strong. He was my mate, and he needed to understand that.

I gently guided him to the ground, kissing his neck softly, feeling his body tense beneath me. He trembled, but I kept my focus on him, trying to be gentle, to let him know it was okay... though part of me wondered if I was just feeding into the primal need that had taken over.

He gasped, his breathing uneven, and I could feel him unraveling beneath me. I tried to soothe him, to make him feel something other than the fear and uncertainty. But I knew, deep down, that I was pushing him too far. 

The tension between us was palpable as I slowly removed Liam's clothes, the air thick with an energy I couldn't shake. Every movement felt deliberate, as if the weight of this moment was too much for either of us to bear. I could sense Liam's hesitation, his internal struggle, but the pull the force between us was undeniable.

I was driven by something deep within me. Something primal. But, despite that urge to claim him, I wasn't blind to the vulnerability in his eyes. This was not how I had imagined it, but there was no turning back now.

When I took him in my hand, I could feel the tension in his body. His breaths were uneven, and I could see his chest rise and fall rapidly. My mind was clouded with a mixture of urgency and desire, but there was something else too a nagging awareness that what we were doing was changing everything.

I stroked him gently, and the moment he released, the air around us seemed to snap. His breath was fast and shallow, his face flushed. I watched him carefully, noting the way his body stiffened, the subtle tension in his jaw, the confusion in his eyes.

Suddenly, he broke away from me, his movements frantic as he scrambled to gather his clothes, his hands shaking. I didn't know whether it was fear or something else—something more driving him to pull away so quickly.

"Liam..." I began, but my voice caught in my throat.

He didn't wait for me to finish. With swift, almost panicked movements, he dressed, his back turned to me. He was avoiding my gaze, avoiding any kind of connection. I knew that what had just happened had shaken him, but I didn't understand just how deeply.

He turned to me then, his face a mixture of fear and regret. There was a vulnerability in his expression that hit me harder than any physical blow.

"This was a mistake," he said, his voice cracking slightly, almost like he was trying to convince himself more than me.

Before I could respond, before I could even reach out to him, he was gone. He dashed out of the room, running as if his very life depended on it.

I stood there, the silence enveloping me, the absence of his warmth leaving an ache in my chest. I had thought I knew what I wanted. But in that moment, when I saw him run, the reality hit me: I didn't know what I was doing.

I'd pushed him too far too fast, and now I had no idea how to bring him back.