glitch

chapter four - the realization

"No," is all Lucas says at first, dropping my arm so quickly you'd think it actually burned him.

I fall back again with a grunt, but this time, I don't hurry to stand. I hold that same arm to my chest, my fingers idly tracing where his hand once was as I try to wrap my head around everything.

When I said I wanted to find my mate, damn it, this is not what I meant!

"No, no, no, no, you cannot do this to me!"

That knocks me out of my stupor, and I scoff with disbelief. "Do this to you? Like I want to be paired with you, of all people," I hiss, forcing myself to stand on unsteady legs. My brain is reeling.

I didn't think it was even possible for a man to be fated with another man. I've read so many stories, but not once have I heard of this.

But here we are.

"This has to be some mistake," Lucas mumbles to nobody in particular, shifting and pacing the width of the hallway with his hands buried in his hair. I almost don't bother to say anything at all—he seems a bit too "in his own head" to register any words that'd come out of my mouth.

Instead, I glare at him, crossing my arms over my chest—partly to put some mental distance between us, and partly to keep the arm he'd grabbed hidden. I can still feel the warmth of his hand, radiating through my veins like some sort of phantom sensation. I hate it.

"Wow, glad to know you think so highly of me," I drone flatly, only to add just a moment later, "But in all seriousness, I agree with you for once. The universe wouldn't be this cruel to me, setting me up with you."

To his credit, he almost makes me laugh when he suddenly stops pacing, turns to face me, and flips me off with both his hands. I'm positive that he's wishing he had another pair just to add two more middle fingers to the mix. He goes right back to pacing once he's sure I'd seen just how serious he was about his "fuck off"s, and I can't help but roll my eyes.

I know I should be more respectful to him, given he's the heir to the pack and all, but man, he annoys the hell out of me.

"Maybe we just, like... thought we felt something, but really it was just our imaginations?" I suggest eventually, if only to make him stand still. His stupid pacing is making me dizzy.

"Oh, yeah, because we'd both imagine the same very specific feeling. Definitely sounds legit; thank you for blessing me with your wisdom," he says through gritted teeth, not even bothering to look my way anymore.

I bristle, narrowing my eyes. The entitlement just radiates off of this idiot. "You don't know it was the same feeling, asshole. We could've been imagining totally different things."

Lucas groans, and this time when he stops, it's directly in front of me. Before I can open my mouth to make some sort of snarky remark or tell him to back off, he extends his hand. "Give me your arm."

I blink. "What?"

"Give me your fucking arm, Theo," he repeats, harsher this time, and annoyingly, I find myself wanting to comply. He takes a small, jerky step toward me when I hesitate, and it becomes a struggle not to shrink back.

I make myself stand taller when I eventually do hold out my arm for him, hating how I have to look ever so slightly upward to meet his gaze. Fuck him and his stupid long legs.

He grabs my offered wrist, pushing my sleeve past my elbow to expose more of my skin before sliding his hand into place over the inside of my forearm. The sudden gentleness of the motion catches me off guard, and I swallow.