Falling Harder

This guy knew my size? I couldn't believe it. How on earth had he figured out my measurements so perfectly just by looking at me? Had he done this before? The thought twisted something in my gut. Had Drake been with enough girls that he could size me up at a glance? The bitter jealousy that bloomed within me was sharp, unexpected.

Layla, my wolf, scoffed at me from the recesses of my mind. 'Really? Jealous already?'

She didn't even bother to hide her exasperation. Layla had been chiding me ever since this mate bond business started, especially now that I was toying with the idea of using it to further my plans.

'You're wasting your time,' she huffed. 'Manipulating the mate bond is useless. It's too strong. You'll cave, sooner or later. You won't be able to resist it.'

Layla's words struck a nerve. The wolf part of me always knew the truth long before I was willing to face it. But I had to push those thoughts aside. I couldn't let her warnings distract me. Not now. Even if Layla was right, I had to at least try.

First things first—I needed to figure out the whole "girlfriend" situation he had going with that bimbo. If he was messing around with someone else, I had to know. My curiosity was burning, but it wasn't just that—it was a point of pride. If I was going to get anywhere with my plans, I couldn't let this go unanswered.

Then, I'd make him fall. Harder than the mate bond had already forced him to. Drake didn't seem like the type of guy to just give in, and honestly, guys like him needed a challenge. If I came off too easy, it would lose its appeal. No, I had to play this smart.

But how to play it? I wondered, biting my lip.

The seduction route? It was tempting, but that felt too obvious, too straightforward. Drake probably expected that from me—or any woman, really. Besides, the mate bond was already doing half the work, pulling us together whether we liked it or not. Using that as my main weapon felt like cheating.

So what should I do?

"Jealousy," Layla piped up. Her voice was smug, a reminder that she was always one step ahead of me when it came to matters of the heart. 'Make him jealous.'

The thought stuck. Maybe I could use a little bit of that jealousy to twist things in my favor, get him to realize he couldn't just assume I'd fall into his arms. He had to work for it—earn it, even.

I let out a long sigh. "Okay, Layla. Challenge accepted."

I slipped into the dress Drake had laid out for me, feeling the fabric slide smoothly against my skin. It was a stunning piece—simple yet elegant—and as I fastened the last hook of the bra, I couldn't help but appreciate the attention to detail. The bra and panties fit perfectly, which only added to my growing suspicion about how well Drake knew my size. I glanced at myself in the mirror and was momentarily taken aback. The deep blue of the dress complemented my sky-blue eyes so perfectly, it was almost uncanny. It was as if he had known blue was my favorite color, a detail I hadn't even shared with him.

'Great,' I thought with a mix of frustration and admiration. 'The guy has taste, I'll give him that.'

But I wasn't just dressing up to impress him—or maybe I was, just a little. Either way, I had a bigger goal in mind. Straightening the hem of the dress, I narrowed my eyes at my reflection. I looked confident, collected, and ready for battle.

'Now,' I thought, 'let's go set some boundaries with that skinny bimbo.'

I smirked at the thought. She had screamed at me earlier for wearing Drake's clothes, but soon enough, she'd realize exactly whose man Drake was. And I'd make damn sure she understood that he was mine—not just because of the mate bond, but because I intended to claim him, fully and completely.

This wasn't just about Drake. It was about power. Control. And that bimbo needed to be put in her place.

It wasn't hard finding her. All I had to do was follow that obnoxiously loud soprano voice, echoing through the hallways like nails on a chalkboard. Her shrill tones led me straight to the living room, where she was sprawled dramatically across the couch like some kind of damsel in distress.

I could hear her whining before I even laid eyes on her. "I can't believe she did that to me," she was saying to whoever was unlucky enough to be listening. "She's lucky, you know. I wasn't prepared. Caught me by surprise, otherwise, she'd have faced my wrath."

Wrath? I almost laughed out loud. Please.

I stepped into the room, my lips pulling into a smirk as I took in the scene. She was lying there like she'd just been through a war, though I was the one who'd barely raised a finger. Honestly, it was a pathetic display, and part of me felt a little bad for how easy it had been to knock her out earlier. But not bad enough to keep me from putting her in her place once and for all.

She caught sight of me, her eyes widening slightly before narrowing in disdain. "You!" she spat.

I smiled sweetly. "Oh, don't worry. I'm not here to catch you by surprise this time."

I smiled sweetly at her, stepping further into the room with a confidence that felt almost foreign—yet undeniably powerful. "Oh, don't worry," I said, my voice laced with mock reassurance. "I'm not here to catch you by surprise this time."

Her eyes flashed with anger, but I could see the uncertainty beneath it. She shifted on the couch, trying to muster some of that "wrath" she had been going on about. She straightened her spine, attempting to look fierce, but it was clear that her performance was all bravado and no substance.

"You got lucky," she snapped, her voice trembling ever so slightly. "If I'd been ready for you, you wouldn't have stood a chance. Drake would never—"

"Drake would never what?" I interrupted, arching a brow at her. "Choose me? Because from where I'm standing, he's already made his choice." I folded my arms over my chest and tilted my head, watching her squirm under the weight of her own insecurities.

She opened her mouth to retort but closed it just as quickly. I could see the gears turning in her head as she tried to come up with something clever, something to regain control of the situation. But she couldn't. I had already taken it from her.

I took a step closer, letting the silence between us stretch just long enough to make her uncomfortable. "Let me make something very clear," I said, my voice dropping into a tone that was calm but deadly serious. "Whatever game you think you're playing, it's over. Drake is mine, and you'd better get used to that fact. He's not interested in your little theatrics."

Her face flushed with embarrassment and rage, but she said nothing. Instead, she turned her gaze to the floor, her fingers gripping the edges of the couch as if holding on for dear life.

I smirked, satisfied. "Glad we understand each other."

With that, I turned on my heel and walked away, my head held high. I didn't need to see her reaction—I'd already won. As I left the room, I could feel her eyes burning into my back, but she didn't dare say another word. Not after what had just happened.

One battle down, I thought to myself, feeling a small sense of satisfaction bubble up inside me. But the real war was still to come.

Drake was waiting for me in the hall, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, watching me with an amused smile. "You handled that well," he said with a chuckle.

I shrugged, pretending like it hadn't been a big deal. "She's not worth the effort."

He stepped forward, closing the distance between us in a few long strides. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "First you knock her out, and now you walk in here like you own the place."

I met his gaze, resisting the urge to smile back. "Maybe I do," I replied with a hint of challenge in my tone. "After all, isn't that what being the Alpha's mate means?"

His smile deepened, and for a moment, there was something unreadable in his eyes—something darker, more intense. "Careful," he warned softly, his hand brushing against my arm, sending that familiar spark of electricity through my skin. "You're playing with fire."

I stared up at him, my heart pounding in my chest. I knew he was right. I was playing a dangerous game, and Drake was no fool. But I couldn't stop now. Not when I was so close.

"Well," I said, taking a step back and breaking the tension between us. "I'll just have to make sure I don't get burned."

He chuckled again, watching me with a mixture of amusement and intrigue.

With a smirk, I stepped closer to Drake, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him toward me. His eyes darkened with surprise and something else—desire, maybe—but I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had an effect on me too. Not yet, anyway.

"I better not have to deal with any more of your bimbo girlfriends," I said firmly, my voice low but sharp. "And as for the one I've already dealt with? You're going to have to work hard to get back on my good side. She's ruined my opinion of you."

I released his collar with a shove and spun around to leave. But before I could take a step, I felt his strong hand wrap around my arm, pulling me back toward him. His grip was firm but gentle, and when I turned to face him, there was that same smirk on his lips—playful yet challenging.

"And what would it take to get back on your good side?" he asked, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that sent a shiver down my spine. He leaned in, his face dangerously close to mine, his breath warm against my skin. "Maybe a kiss?"

I arched a brow, not breaking eye contact, and let the silence between us linger for a beat too long. He thought he could just ask for a kiss and get what he wanted? Not a chance.

"You'll have to earn it," I replied coolly, tilting my head slightly as if daring him to try. I pulled away from his grip, letting my hand trail lightly down his chest before stepping back, leaving him standing there—intrigued, frustrated, and wanting more.

"Let's see if you're up for the challenge," I added with a wink, turning away again with a slow, deliberate stride, knowing his eyes were on me the whole time.