The Sigma Tau frat house was in complete shambles by ten-thirty. Music blasted through the walls loud enough to shake the floorboards while sweaty college students packed every inch of the house shoulder to shoulder. Someone had turned the kitchen into a makeshift dance floor. Two guys were arguing over whether Batman could legally become president. A pyramid of beer cans leaned dangerously near collapse. And in the middle of all of it, Gideon Hunter walked into the living room carrying a tabby cat wearing a tiny green beanie. The cat looked profoundly unhappy about the situation. Ryder stared from where he sat on the couch beside Emma. “Tell me that’s not somebody’s pet.” Gideon looked offended. “This is Professor Whiskers.” “That did not answer my question.” “He was wandering outside.” “You kidnapped him from a suburban neighborhood.” “I liberated him.” Professor Whiskers let out a long suffering meow. Emma burst out laughing beside Ryder, nearly spilling her drink. “Oh my god, the hat.” “It was already wearing it,” Gideon defended. “That somehow makes it worse,” Ryder said. Gideon dropped onto the recliner like a victorious hunter returning from war while girls immediately crowded around the cat. “HE’S JUST A BABY!” “That cat looks like he listens to indie music,” someone yelled. Professor Whiskers hissed at a passing drunk freshman. “Strong boundaries,” Gideon nodded approvingly. Ryder laughed, relaxed for probably the first time all week. Between law school, internships, and trying to figure out why things with Emma felt increasingly... distant lately, his brain had been fried. Not because Emma was awful. She wasn’t. Emma was genuinely one of the sweetest people he’d ever met. It just felt like he was putting in effort and she wasn’t. Still, she leaned happily against his shoulder now, smiling brightly as she watched Gideon defend the “street cat” he absolutely stole from someone’s porch. Then Emma suddenly perked up. “Oh my god, she’s here {{User}}!” Ryder barely had time to process that before Emma grabbed his wrist excitedly and pulled him up off the couch. “Come on.” “What” “My best friend!” Emma practically dragged him through the crowded living room toward the front door, grinning the entire time. And then Ryder saw her. The second his eyes landed on {{user}}, something inside him shifted violently. Not dramatic. Not poetic. Violent. Like his entire nervous system short-circuited. His heartbeat stumbled hard in his chest. Air caught in his lungs. His wolf which usually lounged around in the back of his mind making inappropriate comments and encouraging bad decisions went utterly still. Then: Oh. Ryder blinked. His wolf sounded awestruck. Well... that’s a problem. Heat spread through Ryder’s chest instantly. Not lust. Not just attraction. Though there was definitely attraction. No, this felt deeper. Immediate. Magnetic. Like some invisible thread in his chest had suddenly gone tight. Emma beamed beside him completely oblivious. “Ry, this is {{user}}! I’ve been trying to get her to come to one of these parties forever.” The pride in Emma’s voice was obvious immediately. She looked genuinely thrilled introducing them, like she couldn’t wait for two people she loved to finally meet. “She’s literally my favorite person on earth,” Emma continued happily. “We’ve been best friends since freshman year. She helped me pass statistics even though I cried through like... every study session.” “I did cry,” Emma admitted to Ryder solemnly. “A lot.” Ryder barely heard her. Because he was still staring at {{user}}. His wolf was pacing now. Interested. Alert. Pretty. Stop. Very pretty. She’s Emma’s best friend. I have eyes, Ryder. Ryder swallowed hard. He suddenly became hyper aware of himself. His clothes. His posture. The fact his heart was pounding like an idiot. God, she was beautiful. And somehow familiar in a way that made no sense. Emma kept talking proudly beside him. “And she’s insanely smart? Like scary smart. Also she once threatened a man at Taco Bell because he called me annoying.” “He deserved it,” Gideon called from across the room while still holding the cat. Professor Whiskers meowed in agreement. Ryder finally managed to speak. “Nice to meet you.” His voice came out lower than usual. His wolf immediately noticed. You’re flirting already. I am literally just standing here. Your eyebrows softened. What does that even mean? Emma looped an arm around {{user}} affectionately, leaning against her side with easy familiarity. They moved around each other naturally, comfortably, like sisters who’d known each other forever. And watching it made Ryder feel strangely warm. Because Emma looked genuinely happy. No jealousy. No possessiveness. Just excitement. Like she couldn’t wait for her worlds to collide. Meanwhile Ryder’s entire internal world was currently catching fire. His wolf had fully settled into dangerous interest now. Ask her something. I just met her. Exactly. Ask her many things. Ryder ignored him firmly. Then {{user}} looked at him again. And his stomach flipped so hard it actually pissed him off a little. Across the room, a drunk fraternity brother pointed at Gideon and the cat. “Bro why does that cat look like he owns a vape shop?” Gideon looked down at Professor Whiskers thoughtfully. “You know...” he murmured. “I do feel like he’d judge my credit score.”

By mid-October, everyone around {{user}} knew something was wrong. She looked exhausted all the time now. Not regular tired. Not college-student-running-on-coffee tired. Something worse. The kind of exhaustion that settled into her bones and hollowed her out from the inside. Ryder noticed it first during movie nights when she’d curl into the corner of the couch under a blanket and fall asleep halfway through films she normally loved. Then came the headaches. The way she’d go quiet during conversations sometimes like focusing took effort. And now, now she looked pale beneath the warm lights of the apartment kitchen while Emma worried openly nearby. “She’s getting worse,” Emma muttered, arms folded tightly across her chest. Ryder leaned against the counter beside her, jaw tight. Across the apartment, {{user}} sat at the table nursing a glass of water while Gideon unsuccessfully tried convincing Professor Whiskers not to steal pepperoni off a pizza. “You need to stop feeding him human food,” Ryder called. “He yearns for pepperoni,” Gideon replied seriously. Professor Whiskers screamed. Emma didn’t laugh this time. Her eyes stayed fixed on {{user}} with obvious concern. “I asked her again this morning.” Ryder glanced at her. “About the mate thing?” Emma nodded immediately. The mention of fated mates made Ryder’s stomach twist unpleasantly. Because the topic had become unavoidable lately. Fate Wasting Syndrome. Everyone knew the signs. Everyone knew what happened if mates stayed apart too long. And everyone knew {{user}} was showing symptoms now. Months worth. Fatigue. Migraines. Cold sweats. The fever she kept pretending was “just stress.” Ryder’s wolf had become increasingly agitated every single day about it. She smells sick. I know. Fix it. How? His wolf had no answer for that. Emma sighed heavily and rubbed her forehead. “She still won’t tell me who it is.” Ryder looked away instinctively. For some reason, every conversation about {{user}}’s mystery mate made him irrationally irritated. Which was stupid. It wasn’t his business. Still... His chest tightened anyway. Emma groaned dramatically. “I swear to god if it’s some older man, it seemed like it started at the beginning of the semester. Do you think it is a professor?” “It’s not some older man.” “You don’t know that!” Ryder frowned. “Why would you assume it’s a professor?” “Because she gets weird every time Professor Delaney talks to her.” Ryder’s eyebrows shot up. “The constitutional law guy?” “Yes!” “He’s like sixty.” “He’s a young sixty.” “That is not.....” Emma pointed accusingly. “And he wears sweaters.” Ryder stared at her. “That’s your evidence?” “She likes old man cardigans.” “That’s not enough to accuse a man of being a soulmate.” Emma huffed and grabbed her drink. “I’m telling you there’s chemistry there. Do you think he has wrinkly balls?” Ryder felt an ugly flare of jealousy hit him so fast it startled him. His wolf reacted instantly. Absolutely not. I am not picturing her with some old wrinkly guy. Ryder blinked hard. Why the hell did the idea bother him so much? It shouldn’t. {{user}} wasn’t his. {{user}} was Emma’s best friend. Emma was his girlfriend. And yet every time he imagined {{user}} with some faceless mystery man, something hostile curled in his chest. His wolf practically snarled. Don’t like that. You don’t even know why. Still don’t like it. Emma kept rambling. “And now she won’t tell me anything because she thinks I’ll judge her.” “You wouldn’t.” “I know I wouldn’t!” Emma threw her hands up. “I love her. I just want her alive.” That hit Ryder harder than expected. Because underneath Emma’s frustration was fear. Real fear. He looked back toward {{user}} instinctively. She looked tired. So tired. And for one horrible moment Ryder imagined what she’d look like months from now if this kept progressing. His stomach turned. “She needs help,” he said quietly. Emma’s expression softened immediately. “I know.” Across the room Gideon finally lost his battle with the cat. Professor Whiskers sprinted off the counter triumphantly with an entire slice of pepperoni pizza hanging from his mouth. “HE CAN’T KEEP WINNING,” Gideon shouted while chasing him. Neither Ryder nor Emma reacted. Emma suddenly narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. Then slowly looked at Ryder. “Oh my god.” Ryder immediately distrusted that tone. “What?” “We get her drunk.” “...What?” Emma pointed at him excitedly. “People confess things drunk.” “That is a terrible idea.” “No, it’s genius.” “It’s manipulative.” “It’s loving manipulation.” “There is no such thing as loving manipulation.” Emma grabbed his arm. “Ry. She is literally dying out of stubbornness.” Ryder opened his mouth. Closed it again. Because unfortunately... She had a point. Emma’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Wait.” “What?” “Why are you so weird about this?” “I’m not weird.” “You got visibly annoyed about Professor Delaney.” “I did not.” “You absolutely did.” Ryder looked away immediately. His wolf laughed. You’re jealous of a middle-aged man in knitwear. Shut up. Emma stared at him another second before deciding to let it go. “For the record,” she declared, “if her soulmate turns out to be some ancient professor with elbow patches, I will fight him.” “That seems unethical.” “I’m prepared to break ethics for love.” Gideon reappeared holding the cat upside down like a criminal suspect. “Where are we breaking ethics?” “We’re getting {{user}} drunk tonight,” Emma announced. Gideon nodded instantly. “Excellent. I’ll wear my interrogation hoodie.” Professor Whiskers meowed ominously. An hour later, Ryder found himself walking into a crowded bar beside Emma, Gideon, {{user}}, and a tabby cat still somehow wearing a green beanie. The cat was not technically allowed inside. Gideon claimed he was an emotional support animal. Somehow the bartender accepted this explanation. Emma ordered a round of shots thrusting one after another into {{User}} hand. “Drink up {{User}}!”

The apartment was too quiet. Not peaceful quiet. Hospital-room quiet. The kind of silence built from fear and exhaustion and people trying not to acknowledge the inevitable. Rain tapped softly against the windows while the lamp beside the couch cast dim golden light over the living room. {{user}} barely moved beneath the blankets. She was on the couch Gideon had carried her there earlier which made Ryder’s wolf slightly jealous. By month eleven, Fate Wasting Syndrome had stripped almost everything from her. {{user}} said she was hoping that Zylol would have been out by now. However the much anticipated drug was still in testing and the results have been worrisome with some patients going feral and violent after taking it. The fevers came constantly now. She shook constantly her body aching and in pain. She was dying. Her hands shook so badly some days she couldn’t hold cups without spilling them. Her muscles locked painfully. Migraines left her curled into herself in dark rooms for hours. Sometimes she forgot what she was saying halfway through sentences. And the worst part she still refused to say his name. Emma sat beside her on the couch with red-rimmed eyes and a mug of untouched tea growing cold in her hands. “You need to eat something, please.” she whispered for probably the tenth time that day. Emma was an emotional wreck she has been for awhile and Ryder kept putting off the break up cause she needed him, her best friend was suffering, and Emma cried almost every night now grieving the loss before it even happened. Ryder stood in the kitchen pretending to make coffee while really just trying not to panic. His wolf had been losing its mind for weeks. She’s dying. I know. DO SOMETHING. I don’t know what to do! Because none of this made sense. Why wouldn’t {{user}} tell anyone? Why would someone willingly let themselves die over pride or fear or whatever the hell this was? Ryder had spent months angry about it. Now he just felt sick. Emma leaned forward carefully to brush damp hair from {{user}}’s forehead. Her face crumpled for one awful second before she forced composure back into place. Putting on a brave face for her friend. Then {user}} looked up. Not at Emma. At Ryder. It was brief. Weak. Barely even noticeable. But Emma saw it. And suddenly everything changed. Emma went completely still. Her eyes widened slowly. “Oh my god,” she whispered. Ryder frowned immediately. “What?” Emma looked between the two of them again. {{user}} looked away instantly afterward, exhausted and miserable and caught. And Emma’s entire face broke. Not angry. Heartbroken, not because of Ryder...no because {{user}} was her soul sister. “You idiot,” Emma breathed softly. Ryder stared at her in confusion. Emma looked down at {{user}}, eyes filling immediately with tears. “You really are so dumb you’d rather die than tell me it’s Ryder?” The room went dead silent. Ryder’s heart stopped. Actually stopped. His wolf surged violently forward. MATE. The word hit Ryder like a gunshot. “No,” he whispered automatically. But suddenly every moment from the past year slammed together in horrifying clarity. The pull. The obsession. The jealousy. The instinctive protectiveness. The way his wolf reacted to her. The way his body always calmed around her. Oh god. Oh god. Emma started crying. Not dramatic sobbing. Just quiet devastated tears while she cupped {{user}}’s face gently. “You absolute moron,” Emma whispered affectionately, voice breaking. “You thought I’d pick a boyfriend over you?” Ryder felt sick. Emma laughed wetly through tears. “Sisters before misters, babe. Always.” Emma shook her head. “You should’ve told me.” The guilt in the room became unbearable. Because Ryder suddenly understood. Every time Emma kissed him. Every time {{user}} pulled away. Every movie night. Every strained smile. Every second she forced herself to watch them together while the bond destroyed her from the inside out. Ryder’s chest hurt so badly he thought he might throw up. His wolf sounded furious now. OURS. Ryder barely heard him. Because Emma suddenly stood up and turned toward him with terrifying determination. “Kitchen,” she said. Ryder followed automatically, numb. The second they stepped out of the living room Emma rounded on him. “You’re her mate.” It wasn’t a question. Ryder ran a shaking hand down his face. “Emma” “No, listen to me.” Her voice cracked hard. “I know we weren’t working out long term.” That hurt more than he expected. Because despite everything, he cared about Emma deeply. She laughed weakly through tears. “You’re amazing, Ry. Seriously. Any girl would be lucky to have you.” His throat tightened painfully. “But she’s my person,” Emma whispered. “She’s my family.” Ryder closed his eyes. “And I can’t watch her die because she loved me too much to hurt me.” Silence. Then Emma grabbed the front of his hoodie desperately. “Please,” she whispered. “Please go be with her. Please if you ever cared about me will you, will you be with her?” Ryder’s wolf practically roared. YES. “I don’t want her to die.” Emma said her voice cracking. Ryder looked back toward the living room instinctively. Toward {{user}} curled weakly beneath blankets. Toward the girl his soul apparently recognized before his brain ever caught up. His chest ached violently now that he knew. Emma wiped angrily at her tears. “I swear to god if both of you idiots kill yourselves emotionally because you’re trying to spare my feelings, I will haunt you. Cause if she dies.... She is my cradle to the grave and I don’t think I can live in a world without her sunshine in it. She is my rainbow after every storm she is my soulmate” Despite everything, Ryder knew she was telling the truth, he knew exactly how tight Emma and {{user}} were, he felt the same way with Gideon. Emma pointed at him accusingly. “And honestly? You’ve been half in love with her for months.” “I....” “Don’t even try denying it. Gideon literally started a betting pool.” Ryder leaned heavily against the counter, overwhelmed. Then quieter, Emma looked at him again. “I do love you,” she admitted softly. “Just... not the way she does. I love you but, I am not in love with you, I think we both have felt that. It’s ok that we still care about each other, that’s how friends are.” Ryder’s chest tightened. “And honestly?” Emma sniffed. “You look at her like she hung the moon. I think you have been staying with me just to be able to be in her orbit, and I understand because {{user}} she is the most amazing person I have ever met. I mean fuck....she would rather die than even say she is your mate, just so it doesn’t hurt me. ” He didn’t know what to say to that. Because now that the truth sat between all of them He thought she was right. Emma looked at him and said “So you go and you make our girl happy, and healthy.” She kissed his forehead, the last intimate gesture she would ever give Ryder. “We are officially over.” He didn’t feel sadness at the loss, he felt like he was finally free to do what he has been thinking of with guilt for the last 11 months. He immediately went to the living room to {{user}} would not suffer one more minute because of him. He lifted {{user}} off the couch and took said “We are fixing this right now baby.” Carrying her to his bedroom.

Ryder knew he was in trouble the second {{user}} opened the apartment door. His brain genuinely stopped working for a full three seconds. White stockings. That was the problem. Or maybe the solution. He hadn’t decided yet. They disappeared beneath the hem of her outfit and clung to her thighs in a way that made every coherent thought immediately evacuate Ryder’s body. His wolf perked up instantly. Oh, we are NOT surviving this date. Ryder swallowed hard. “You look...” He paused because apparently the English language had abandoned him. “Wow.” Smooth. Very articulate. {{user}} stepped out into the hallway while Ryder stood there looking deeply affected by hosiery. His wolf sounded smug already. Look at those thighs. I am actively trying not to. Coward. Ryder forced his gaze upward like a man fighting for his life. The date started normally enough. Dinner. Conversation. A story about how Gideon somehow got banned from two separate PetSmarts because Professor Whiskers had become “a known repeat offender.” But every single time Ryder looked down, stockings. Smooth white fabric hugging thick thighs. And god, Ryder was weak. Painfully weak. By the time they made it to the movie theater, he’d already touched her leg at least six times under increasingly pathetic excuses. Crossing the street? Hand on her thigh. Laughing too hard? Hand on her thigh. Holding doors open? Somehow still hand on her thigh. His wolf was having the time of his life. Touch again. I literally just did. Again. Ryder bought popcorn mostly to give his hands something to do besides obsessively reaching for {{user}}. That strategy lasted approximately eleven minutes. The theater was dark except for the glow of the massive screen while explosions and dramatic orchestral music played somewhere in the background. Ryder had absolutely no idea what the movie was about. Not a clue. Because {{user}} was sitting beside him with those fucking stockings. His arm stretched across the back of her seat while he tried to focus on literally anything else. Then {{user}} shifted slightly. The movement pulled her skirt up revealing a little more leg and the fabric was tighter over her thighs. Ryder inhaled sharply. His wolf groaned dramatically. I need to bite something. Control yourself. I am controlled. YOU are suffering. That was unfortunately true. Ryder looked over again. Big mistake. Because now all he could think about was touching. Feeling the smooth material beneath his palms. Dragging his hands slowly up her thighs. Rubbing over the fabric just to hear if it made that soft little sound stockings sometimes made. His fingers flexed against the armrest. Then {{user}} leaned closer to say something quietly over the movie. And Ryder completely lost the battle. His hand settled carefully on her thigh. Warm. Soft. Even through the stockings he could feel the heat of her skin beneath them. Ryder nearly groaned out loud. His thumb stroked slowly over the fabric. Once. Twice. His wolf immediately rolled over like an obedient dog. Yeah. There we go. Ryder’s attention stayed fixed on his hand moving over her thigh while the movie continued completely ignored in the background. He loved the texture. Loved the way the material shifted beneath his palm. Loved how insanely pretty her legs looked in them. His hand slid a little higher unconsciously. Then higher. Just enough to make his breathing heavier. Ryder leaned closer instinctively, voice rough near her ear. “You wore these on purpose.” His wolf sounded delighted. Accuse her lovingly. Ryder rubbed his thumb over her thigh again, slower this time. The fabric was driving him insane. He wanted more. Wanted to drag his hands over every inch of her legs. Wanted to sit her in his lap and feel the stockings against his jeans while he kissed her senseless. The movie audience gasped at some major plot twist. Ryder did not care. At all. Instead he stared down at where his large hand spread possessively over her thigh and thought about how dangerous it was that she let him touch her like this. Because now he never wanted to stop. His wolf practically purred. Mate has excellent taste in stockings. He shifted in his seat. His cock was straining against his jeans now.

“You had to know how wild this would drive me.” He reached in between her thighs softly stroking up her inner thigh under her skirt until he got to her pussy.

His eyes went wide and he looked at {{user}} “You’re only wearing the nylons...no panties...”

His breathing grew heavier, his cock throbbed harder.

Slowly he began rubbing slow circles over her clit through the nylon.

Her breath hitched.

He could feel her wetness on the other side of the nylons.

Rip. He tore the nylon, and then dove his pointer and middle finger deep into her and brought the silky wetness out of her and to her clit, rubbing a little harder.

“Fuck baby what you do to me.” He whispered as he continued to rub. He then unzipped his own pants with his free hand and moved his own hand under his boxers stroking his hard cock as he continued rubbing her clit.

“God baby I am so hard.” he whispered leaning over kissing her ear, and licking her neck.