Chapter 115: Sandwiched

Chapter 115: Sandwiched REED POV I had to tell Blaze about her relationship with Clark. He had to know. He was part of it too—entwined in the past just like me. And if it weren’t for his meddling, his ego, his obsession with always being in control... maybe Clark would still be alive. Maybe none of this would be happening. And if she ever found out—found out that the two of us were involved in her twin’s death? That we were the reason his life ended the way it did? Gods, she’d never want to look at either of us again. I knew it. Blaze knew it. Clark was caught in our crossfire back then. If one of us—just one—had backed off, admitted defeat, let the other have him... maybe Clark would still be alive. But no. We couldn’t let go. Pride. Possession. Obsession. We fought each other tooth and claw for him. And now here we were again, repeating the same cursed pattern. Both of us—gunning for the same girl. Repeating the same sick game—but this time it was even worse. Because Clare wasn’t just a human we both happened to be drawn to. She was our mate. Bonded. Fated. That damn soul-thread connecting the three of us in a knot that could strangle us all if we weren’t careful. I clenched my fists at the memory—Clark’s laughter, his temper, his strange fascination with things beyond this world. And how he got caught between me and Blaze. He was the only neutral ground we ever had. And now Clause—whatever her full name really was—was walking the same dangerous path. But this time, it wasn’t curiosity that tied her to us. It was fate. I didn’t even know her real name yet. How messed up is that? The girl we were both bound to by blood and magic, and I still didn’t know what her parents called her when she was born. The irony stung. I couldn’t help but wonder... What if the prophecy we’d all feared—the one that had everyone pointing fingers at Clark—wasn’t even about him? What if it was her? What if the human destined to unravel the balance of the supernatural world... wasn’t Clark, but Clause? This time, Blaze got to her first. She trusted him first. He’d been the one to pull her out of danger, even if he was a cocky bastard while doing it. That trust she gave him—it hurt more than I thought it would. Because once, Clark trusted me first. I was smug about that. I had thought I had the upper hand. With Clark, I was the one he opened up to first. He confided in me. Trusted me before Blaze. And yeah—I had been smug about it. Blaze hated that I had his attention first. Hated that Clark smiled at me more. But now? Now I was the one on the outside. I saw it—the way Clare looked at Blaze. The way her body relaxed a little when he got close. Like she believed he could protect her. Like she felt safe. She didn’t look at me that way. Not yet. And gods, it hurt . That trust, that comfort she gave him—I wanted it too. I needed her to see me, trust me. It stung like a bitch. I was the one looking in from the outside. Watching Blaze have what I wanted. What my wolf ached for. When Blaze stood up and announced—so damn casually—that he was going to stay in her room and "protect her," something snapped in me. Like hell. Like hell. He’d already gotten more time with her. More chances. I needed time too. She had to get to know me, not just the vampire prick. She had to see my side of the bond. That we were connected. That I could be what she needed too. That I wasn’t the monster she thought I was when she looked at me with those wary eyes. He didn’t respond. Just walked down the hall like he owned her, like the place belonged to him, giving me a smug-ass look. I rolled my eyes and followed anyway. I wasn’t leaving her alone with him. Not when my wolf was pacing under my skin, pissed and possessive. We both knew the truth. One of us had to back down. For her. For Clare. To avoid history repeating itself. But here was the problem—neither of us was willing to do it. Because she wasn’t just a human we fancied. She was mate. Do you know how rare that is for our kind? To be tethered, fated, chosen by the universe itself? And do you know how hard it is to let that go? It’s fucking impossible. So when Blaze reached her bedroom door and peered in, I followed right after. He turned to me and gave me the most pretentious "shhh" like I was a clueless idiot who didn’t understand the concept of not waking a sleeping girl. I wanted to punch that smug look right off his undead face. I rolled my eyes, hard. Fuck you, I thought. He walked in, like he belonged there. Like this was his space. His bed. His girl. When I stepped into her room, the sight of her curled up in bed nearly knocked the wind out of me. She looked... small. Vulnerable. Like someone trying to hold herself together in a world tearing her apart. And here we were—both of us—playing tug-of-war with her heart like a pair of selfish assholes. Still, that didn’t stop Blaze from sauntering over and sliding into the bed beside her like he’d done it a hundred times. Like he belonged there. Smug bastard. My wolf snarled inside, pacing and pissed, the bond tugging harder than ever. No way was I letting him pull this silent victory. Not this time. So I followed him in. Well, I wasn’t just going to let that stand. I shot him a look—tight-lipped, teeth gritted—then circled to the other side of the bed. My wolf was practically snarling now. We wouldn’t be left out. We wouldn’t lose her. She was sandwiched now, caught between two ticking time bombs, and neither of us was backing down. I gave Blaze a smug look of my own. A look that said: You’re not pushing me out. Not this time, leech. I wasn’t going to be left behind again. Not by her. Not by fate. Not by him. She was ours. And until she chose, I’d stay right here—beside her. Even if it killed me. She shifted slightly, caught between both of us, but didn’t wake. And something in my chest clenched. It was wrong. All of this was wrong. We were doing it again—fighting over someone who didn’t ask for this, dragging her into our centuries-old conflict, just like we did to her brother. But it didn’t matter. Not to my wolf. Not to me. Because this time... she was more than a human we fancied. She was ours. We stayed like that for nearly an hour. The room was quiet, dark, except for the low hum of the city beyond the window and the sound of her breathing—steady, a little shaky, but finally calm. I hadn’t moved. Neither had Blaze. The only motion came from the rise and fall of her chest, trapped between two territorial bastards who couldn’t leave her alone. My wolf was pacing beneath my skin, ears perked, fully aware that she was right there—between us. Her scent filled the room, and even in sleep, it calmed me, like a balm to an itch I hadn’t known I had. And then... she moved. It was subtle at first. A little twitch, a murmured sound, a sigh. Then she shifted fully—turned away from Blaze and rolled toward me, nuzzling closer, her hand brushing my chest as her body instinctively leaned into my warmth. I froze. Every cell in my body lit up. She was soft. Fragile. And she felt like home. She tucked her head beneath my chin like it was the most natural thing in the world, one of her hands resting lightly against my chest. My breath caught. Warmth bloomed inside me, unexpected but not unwelcome. Even in sleep, her body knew where to go. She felt my warmth. That human part of her was drawn to it. Vampire bodies are cold—like ice. Stone and frost. That’s just how they are. It’s not Blaze’s fault, it’s in his damn nature. But me? I’m heat. Earth. Blood and fire. And she moved to me. I knew it wasn’t conscious—she was asleep. But it didn’t matter. Her body knew what it wanted. It was drawn to me. Because unlike that ice-block vampire she had on her other side, I radiated warmth. Living heat. Blood. Heartbeat. Comfort. Vampires are dead things wrapped in flesh. Cold, still, silent. It’s no surprise she turned away from that and curled into the heat that pulsed through me. My lips curled into a slow, smug grin. Couldn’t help it. I shifted just slightly to give her more space, adjusting my arm so she’d settle more comfortably against me. And she did. Like she belonged there. I didn’t gloat aloud—tempting as it was—but I did smirk. Couldn’t help it. My eyes lifted, locking with Blaze’s across her sleeping form. His face was stone, but the glare in his eyes gave him away. I smirked. He looked like he wanted to rip me apart. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not without waking her. And that made it even better. I raised a brow and gave him a small, smug smile. She chose warmth, my warmth. Even if it was just instinct in her sleep, it still counted. Blaze narrowed his eyes, jaw ticking. I could feel his tension like static on the air. I knew he wanted to yank her back. Wrap around her. Prove that he could give her safety too. But he couldn’t give her this. Not the heat. Not the heartbeat. Not the human familiarity she craved in the dark. She murmured something softly, unintelligible, then nestled even closer, like she knew. Like she trusted it. My wolf preened. Smug bastard was practically howling in triumph. I didn’t say anything, just kept my arms still and let her rest against me. I wasn’t going to push it, ruin the moment. Because this wasn’t just about winning some petty rivalry—okay, maybe it was a little about that—but mostly... it was about her. About showing her she wasn’t alone. Blaze was still watching. Waiting. Calculating. Let him. Tonight, she chose me. Even if she didn’t know it yet.