Alpha Tristan ✓ [Republishing]

Efta [ 7 ]

author's note: are you team Tristan or team Kara? Can you see the argument from both sides?

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I'd never truly noticed Tristan before. Not in the way I did as I cooked us dinner. Before, I'd avoid looking at him at all costs since I knew that it only led to me wanting him more. But, I'd begun to pick up on things I never would have if we hadn't kissed.

I noticed that his rosy lips felt softer than they looked and that he used his tongue to enunciate words clearly and properly. I couldn't pinpoint an exact accent, but the way he spoke exuded intelligence and made him more handsome to me. That was all he seemed to use on his face.

He had to be the most inexpressive person I'd ever known. His eyebrows were straight and dark, almost never moving unless he was angry—which I had experienced firsthand, and gave him a brooding look that made me understand exactly why people described him as unapproachable.

Hell, half the time I didn't even want to approach him. The only thing that made me daring enough to be close to him, and even touch him was the fact that I'd never faced his rejection before. My chest tightened as I thought about how he'd experienced my rejection many times in such a short period of knowing him.

We were moving at a snail's pace yet I didn't even know what direction we were headed towards. To my knowledge, most mates completed the mating process within the first week of knowing each other, marking and consummation and all. The thought sent a chord of discomfort through me. I knew I wasn't at the stage of wanting to be with him in that way.

At this point in time, I wanted to see what he was about and still believed that there wasn't anything too romantic between us—at least on my side. I knew what I was supposed to feel, but I was good at blocking things.

I sensed his presence in the kitchen when I began to slice the bell peppers, feeling the warmth that his body emitted. The mate pull ensured that he was irresistible to me and I forced myself to put the knife down when I couldn't concentrate. He was simply leaning against the counter, watching me grip the cutting board tightly.

At that rate, I wasn't going to be able to make dinner at all.

"I can't concentrate with you in the room," I muttered under my breath, closing my eyes and unwillingly honing in on the slow pounding of his heart. A stark difference to my racing heart.

Tristan didn't say anything and instead stayed exactly where he was, folding his arms across his chest. Gingerly, I picked up the knife again and finished cutting the ingredients. I hummed a tune in my head to distract myself from his domineering presence.