Chapter 2

The door to the women's locker room at the tennis court was slightly ajar, suppressed gasps escaping through the crack.

"Cain, not here, someone might come..."

"Shh," the man's voice was low and amused, his fingertips caressing the back of the woman's neck, "let me hold you properly."

My feet felt nailed to the cold tile floor.

That was Cain's voice—the man I'd been in a relationship with for an entire year.

Half an hour ago, my brother Kael had called, asking me to grab his custom racket that he'd left in the locker room.

I never expected to walk in on something like this.

Through the crack in the door, Lila was pressed against the lockers, her blouse unbuttoned,

Cain standing in front of her, one hand gripping the back of her neck, the other buried between her legs.

He bent down to kiss her neck, leaving wet marks on her collarbone.

Those eyes that were always cold and distant with me were now curved with a smile, so tender they could melt.

"I haven't seen you in a year. I've thought about you every single moment."

Those words were like a poisoned dagger, stabbing straight into my heart.

I'd been with Cain for a year. Every night when he lost control during his vulnerable periods, I was by his side.

But he only ever gave me a slight nod and a cool "thanks." Even in bed, he always kept me at arm's length. Never once had he shown me this kind of unguarded tenderness.

"What about that little follower of yours? The Blackthorn girl from the medical school?"

Lila's voice came in broken fragments, mixed with suppressed moans.

"I heard after I left, she's been clinging to you, getting really close?"

Cain's movements paused, his tone instantly becoming indifferent. "Zara? She's just Kael's little sister."

"I heard she's been following you around for quite a while?" Lila laughed softly, her voice dripping with smugness.

"So, you don't feel anything different for her at all?"

"She's just a naive little girl," his voice carried undisguised contempt.

"She thinks sleeping together a few times means we're dating. She's just a tool for releasing desire. Now that you're back, she's useless."

A woman's coquettish laughter echoed from the locker room. My ears were ringing.

The keys slipped from my hand, clattering loudly against the tile floor.

The locker room door was yanked open.

Cain stood in the doorway, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, still carrying the lingering scent of arousal.

When he saw it was me, his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly before returning to his usual coldness.

"What are you doing here this late?"

I bent down to pick up the keys, my fingertips white from gripping them so hard, but my voice was surprisingly steady:

"Getting my brother's racket. Didn't mean to interrupt your fun."

I walked past him, straight to the locker at the far end, grabbed Kael's racket, and didn't look at him once.

As I passed by him, he reached out and grabbed my arm.

"Come to my cabin in the woods this weekend. Clear out your things," he said flatly.

"Lila's moving in. You can stay in the empty apartment on the west side. I promised Kael I'd look after you."

I looked at the hand gripping my arm and suddenly laughed.

When I was eighteen, I completed my first shift. During my out-of-control heat, we had intense, passionate sex.

For the year that followed, I let him mold me in bed into exactly what he wanted, all to make him happy.

I always believed that if I was obedient enough, even if we weren't fated mates, I could eventually warm his cold heart and make him see the love in my eyes.

Turns out, from the very beginning, it was all just charity—given out of respect for my brother.