His Brother Is My Ex

POV: Chloe

The underground parking garage was dimly lit, the flickering fluorescent lights casting pale reflections over the polished hood of Ethan’s black Benz. Inside the cramped car, the air felt unbearably hot.

“I can’t get enough of you, babe…” Ethan murmured against my neck, his warm breath brushing my skin as he wrapped both arms around my waist from the driver’s seat.

“One more kiss. Just one.” He said. I laughed softly, though my chest tightened beneath his weight.

“Ethan, we’re already late.” I told him.

“But you look too pretty tonight.” His lips skimmed the sensitive spot below my ear before he buried his face there dramatically like an oversized clingy wolf dog.

“How am I supposed to control myself when you’re looking so hot?” he complains.

“You’re impossible.” His grin was shameless. Ethan Blackthorn had always been overwhelming, too affectionate, too energetic, too straightforward. Everything about him burned hot and bright, like sunlight you couldn’t escape even if you tried. He caught my wrist before I could push him away and placed my palm on his hardness. The thin black shirt did absolutely nothing to hide the hard muscles beneath.

“You feel what you do to me?” he complained teasingly. My face heated instantly.

“Ethan!” He laughed, clearly pleased with himself. Even after dating for almost a year, I still wasn’t used to how openly affectionate he was. He treated love like breathing, natural, effortless, impossible to hold back. Meanwhile, I had spent years teaching myself how to hide emotions.

“Cupcake,” he said again, softer this time,

“You’re really nervous about meeting my family, huh?” I avoided his eyes and adjusted my dress unnecessarily.

“Wouldn’t anyone be nervous?” I asked back, stating the obvious. Tonight was my first time visiting The Blackthorn Manor, and the first time meeting Ethan’s older brother. The person Ethan admired more than anyone else in the world.

“My brother isn’t scary,” Ethan promised quickly, misunderstanding my silence.

“Okay… maybe he looks scary. But he spoils me the most.” He said proudly. The fondness in his voice was impossible to miss. I turned slightly toward him.

“You really love your brother.” I said, smiling softly. Ethan’s playful expression softened instantly.

“Our parents died when we were little,” he said quietly. “Car accident. My brother raised me after that.” Something inside my chest tightened as he said that.

“He was barely older than me then,” Ethan continued, resting one arm over the steering wheel. “But he handled everything alone. The family business, the pack, even me.” He smiled faintly.

“Honestly, without him, I wouldn’t have survived, I would have been lost. The grief hit us both, but he was bold and strong enough to pull through and pull me out of that grief too. He’s my hero,” he said. There was genuine admiration in his eyes, the kind that came from absolute trust.

“So,” he added with a grin returning to his face,

“The person I marry has to get his approval first.” He proclaimed. I rolled my eyes lightly.

“And if he doesn’t approve?”

“That’s impossible.” Ethan leaned closer confidently.

“You’re perfect.” I snorted softly.

“You’re biased.”

“I’m correct.” He said as he stole another kiss before finally starting the car. As the engine purred to life, I stared out the window while the city lights blurred past. But unease continued crawling beneath my skin and I didn’t know why. Ever since agreeing to come tonight, I had this horrible feeling that something was waiting for me at the end of the road, something I wasn’t ready to face. But I brushed it off and blamed it on my damn nerves.

Half an hour later, the massive iron gates of The Blackthorn Manor slowly opened before us. I froze slightly. The estate stretched endlessly beneath the night sky, illuminated by golden lights that lined the winding road upward. The manor itself sat atop the hill like something out of an old aristocratic painting, enormous, elegant, untouchable. This wasn’t just wealth, It was legacy... power.

The kind of place built by generations of people born to rule. My stomach twisted, beside me, Ethan looked completely relaxed.

“Pretty amazing, right?” he asked proudly. I forced a smile.

“It’s huge.” I said, and he laughed.

“Wait until you see the inside.” He smiled proudly. The car stopped near the massive fountain in front of the manor entrance. Before I could unbuckle my seatbelt, Ethan rushed around to open my door himself. He offered me his hand dramatically.

“Welcome home, future Mrs. Blackthorn.” He said, taking a dramatic bow before me. I rolled my eyes again, but my fingers still slipped into his warm palm. The moment my heels touched the ground, a strange chill ran down my spine. Instinctively, I looked upward.

And saw him...

A tall silhouette stood on the second-floor balcony. One hand rested lazily against the railing while the other held a cigarette between long fingers. The ember glowed faintly red in the darkness. He stood perfectly still, watching. The distance was too far to see his face clearly. Yet the moment my eyes landed on him, my heartbeat lost rhythm completely.

My breath caught...

Something about that figure felt horrifyingly familiar. It felt cold, distant, dangerously unforgettable.

No…

My fingers tightened unconsciously around Ethan’s hand. It couldn’t be. After seven years, there was no way fate could be this cruel.

“Brother!” Ethan suddenly shouted excitedly, waving upward.

“I’m back!” he yells excitedly. The man paused slightly, then he crushed the cigarette against the railing and disappeared silently into the shadows. I stared after him, unable to move.

“Babe?” Ethan squeezed my hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asked me, looking concerned.

“Nothing,” I whispered too quickly. But my heart wouldn’t stop pounding. Seven years ago, I had left an entire world behind. A world of wolves, bloodlines, hierarchy, and dangerous men born with too much power. A world that included him, the last person I ever expected to see again.

Inside the manor, the atmosphere felt strangely cold despite the warmth of the lights. The enormous crystal chandelier hanging above the marble floor reflected pale silver across the walls. Every sound echoed, every step felt unnaturally loud. I swallowed hard, as his footsteps echoed from upstairs. It was slow, measured, heavy enough to command silence. A low voice drifted down the staircase.

“Why are you shouting the moment you enter the house?” he asks. The sound hit me like a physical blow, my entire body froze.

No.... No, no, no...

I looked up sharply. A man stood halfway down the staircase, casually adjusting the cuff of his black shirt. The sight of him shattered the ground beneath my feet.

Tall...

Broad shoulders...

Sharp jawline...

Dark eyes colder than winter nights, and near the corner of his eye, a tiny dark red mole. My vision blurred instantly.

Tristan...

It was Tristan...

The man I once loved more than my own life, the man I abandoned seven years ago. For one terrifying second, the world stopped spinning. Seven years had transformed him completely. The reckless young man who once kissed me breathless against dorm room walls was gone. This Tristan was colder, harder, far more dangerous.

Power radiated from him effortlessly now, heavy enough to suffocate the entire room. Yet his eyes, those terrifying dark eyes locked into mine with such violent intensity that I nearly stopped breathing. Recognition flashed there instantly, then came something much worse. Shock... Rage... Possession.

Ethan, completely oblivious to the destruction happening between us, grinned brightly beside me.

“Brother,” he announced proudly,

“This is Chloe.” He said proudly. My throat tightened painfully, Tristan said nothing. His gaze slowly dragged downward toward the hand Ethan was holding, toward our intertwined fingers. Something terrifying flickered across his face. But, it was not obvious enough for Ethan to notice. But enough to make my blood run cold. Ethan squeezed my hand happily.

“And before you say anything, yes, I’m serious about her.” He announced excitedly. Still silence, from both sides. Then Ethan laughed sheepishly and added,

“Actually… I want to marry her.” He said with a serious face, trying to hold on his excitement. The air in the room changed instantly, I felt it like invisible claws suddenly tightening around my throat. Tristan finally moved again.

Slowly...

Deliberately...

He descended the remaining stairs without taking his eyes off me. The familiar scent of cedarwood and smoke reached me before he did, dragging memories from places I had spent seven years trying to bury. Late nights tangled in dark sheets, his lips against mine, his rough voice whispering mine like a prayer. My chest hurt so badly I could barely breathe. Then Tristan stopped directly in front of me.

Too close...

Far too close...

My trembling gaze dropped unconsciously to his hand, and my entire body went numb. A worn silver ring sat on his finger. It was a cheap promise ring I bought him years ago from a roadside stall. I remembered laughing while forcing it onto his hand.

“You’re never allowed to take this off,” I had told him. Back then, Tristan kissed my forehead and replied lazily,

“Then I’ll wear it until I die.” He’d said. I thought he forgot. I thought he would’ve thrown it away the moment I left him. But he still wore it, after seven years. A painful ache rose in my throat.

“Ms. Chloe.” He said, his voice was low and calm... Too calm. But underneath it, I heard something terrifying struggling to break free. Tristan slowly extended his hand toward me for a handshake. Those dark eyes never left my face.

“Nice to meet you.” He said. The words sounded polite, yet somehow, they felt more dangerous than a threat. My fingers trembled as I placed my hand in his. The moment our skin touched, a violent shiver ripped through my body. Tristan’s expression changed instantly, his fingers tightened around mine with frightening force, not enough to hurt, just enough to make it impossible to pull away.

And then I felt it...

The wolf inside him was furious, possessive, completely out of control. For a split second, Tristan’s calm mask cracked. His jaw clenched violently, his breathing deepened. And his eyes...

God!

His eyes looked like he wanted to drag me upstairs and lock me away where nobody else could touch me again. Especially not his own brother.