Chapter 44 Lydia Strikes Back
Malia’s POV
Lydia always watch, like a venomous snake.
Every time I cross the quad, every time I see Aiden’s arm bump into mine in the dining hall, every time he leans in to whisper something that makes me smile against my will, I feel her gaze on me like icy talons digging into the back of my neck.
She doesn't had a knack for hiding her hatred, not for once.
The new gossip begins like smoke—thin, wafting, all too lightly to dismiss in the early stages.
By Wednesday they’re fire.
I hear the first one in the ladies’ room between classes: “She’s playing all of them. All three Moonfalls. Stringing them along until she can figure out which one has the fattest bank account.”
The second one comes up in the stacks of the library: “She only wants the status. Hybrid girl snuggles up to the alpha heirs and suddenly she’s untouchable.”
By Friday, the whispers are loud enough to stop people from pretending to be discreet.
“She’s after their money. Have you seen the necklace? The clothes? Aiden might as well be her personal ATM.”
I keep my head down. I keep walking. I tell myself words can’t bite.
But they do. They bite down on the tender spots I have been trying to shield ever since the field fight.
I’m bailing on Advanced Mythic History the moment it happens. The hall is jammed—at the end of the day, people pushing and shoving, talking over one another. I’m lugging too much: three textbooks, my notebook, a half-finished essay I stayed up until 3 a.m. outlining.
It’s not until I don’t see her and it’s too late.
Lydia emerges from behind a pillar as if she were waiting. Her smile is a sugar coat with razor blades. Dina and Beretta are behind walked like obedient shadows, both smiling, waiting for the moment.
She moves fast and her foot hooks mine.
I stagger forward. Books fly. Papers scatter like birds that have been rattled. My palms slap the cold tile. Pain flares in my wrists.
The hallway goes quiet for one terrible second.
Then laughter—sharp, and delighted.
“Oops,” says Lydia, her voice sweet as honey “So clumsy of me.”
Dina snorts. Beretta hides her mouth, as if trying not to laugh or cackle.
I stay down on my knees for a beat, forcing breaths through the sting of humiliation. My essay pages are all over the place—ink smudged by someone’s foot stepped on them. My favorite pen is snapped in half.
I begin to collect what I can, my fingers trembling.
A shadow falls over me, I turn in alarm. Not Lydia’s.
Aiden’s.
He’s there so fast I don’t even hear him come.
He drops to one knee next to me. His hands are tender as he gathers my scattered books, but his eyes – when he raises them to Lydia – are like molten gold and murder. He doesn’t speak initially.
He just stands, slow and deliberate, tucking the stack of books into my arms before he turns fully toward her.
The hallway has gone deathly still, even the students who were laughing have stopped laughing.
Lydia raises her chin. She had on her trademark red lipstick, her blonde hair was perfect, and the way she held herself radiated old-money confidence. But there’s a flicker in her eyes now. Something unsure.
Aiden’s voice comes out low. Cold. A kind of silence that makes you want to check the back of your neck.
“Touch her again,” he says, his words ice-hard, “and I’ll make sure your family’s donations don’t buy you protection anymore.”
Lydia’s smile wavers.
Her pack maybe has some money. Her father could be on the university board. And her mother could be financing half the athletic department.
But Aiden is a Moonfall and Moonfalls don’t bluff.
Dina takes a small step back. Beretta’s smirk vanishes.
Lydia bounces back too quickly for me.
She laughs—short, brittle. “She’s not worth it, Aiden. She’ll destroy you. All of you. She’s already turning you against each other. One human girl and the three best wolves on campus decide to duke it out like street dogs? Pathetic.”
She steps closer, voice dropping to a venomous whisper reserved only for him.
“Do you think she loves you? She’s collecting you. Like trophies. When she’s through with you, she’ll leave you bleeding and on to the next one. I love you, Aiden. Can't you see it?”
Aiden doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t even blink.
Instead, he takes my hand.
His fingers close around mine—warm, steady, unyielding. He closes his fingers around mine – warm, steady and unyielding.
Then he, without looking away looks Lydia straight in the eyes.
“I’ll let her do whatever she wants with me,” he says.
The words land like a slap. Simple, final and terrifying in its honesty. Lydia’s face drains of color.
For one long second no one moves then Aiden tugs me gently forward. We walk past her, past a shivering Dina,past Beretta who is staring at her nails and past the frozen crowd of students who suddenly can’t meet our eyes.
He never loosens his hold on my hand. We don’t stop until we’re outside, under the covered walkway, where a steady rain is pounding the metal roof.
Only then does he turn to me, only then does he look at me.
His eyes scan my face—looking for tears, for anger, for anything he can repair.
“Are you hurt?” he asks, voice gentler now. carefull Almost.
I shake my head. Although my wrists are sore, it’s nothing compared to the tempest inside my chest.
“I’m fine.”
He exhales. His thumb brushes over my knuckles once, twice.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I should’ve been there sooner.”
“You were there when it mattered.” I whisper.
He looks down at our joined hands like he’s surprised they’re still connected. He looks down at our joined hands as if surprised they are still connected.
“I meant what I said,” he murmurs. “If she comes near you again—”
“I know.”
I squeeze his fingers. He raises his eyes, there’s something raw there that makes my throat catch.
“I don’t care what they say,” he tells me. “I don’t care what she thinks. I don’t care if the whole campus believes every word. I know you Malia and I know this isn’t a game to you.”
My eyes burn.
“I never wanted any of this,” I murmur. “The rumors. The fighting. The… the necklace. The flowers. It’s all of it. I never wanted to be what you all—”
He interrupts me tenderly. “You didn't need to ask."
He takes our clasped hands up to his lips and kisses my knuckles—softly, reverentially.
“This is my choice. The bond may have created it, but it is I who choose it. Every day.”
There is rain tapping right above us. Someone passes by, feigning not to look.
Aiden doesn’t let go.
“Come back to the suite,” he says softly. “Just for tonight. Let me take care of your wrists. Let me make you tea. Let me sit with you while you get that essay done.”
I pause.
The wolf pendant lies flat on my collarbone, warm from being against my skin. I think of moonflowers tucked between pages.
I think of stars and patient hands, I think of grey eyes that observe everything and tell you almost nothing.
And I think of the girl who just tried to break me in front of half the campus.
I’m tired of running. I’m tired of pretending like I don’t have all three of them in my blood.
“Okay,” I say.
His smile is small and relieved and somehow almost boyish. He holds my hand the entire way back. Perhaps I shouldn't be worried about tomorrow, or the day after, and just by focused on this moment…
With Aiden.