Chapter 66 Fifteen Shades Of His Warmth
Malia's POV
By the time I make it back to the suite that night, I'm completely drained.
The exam I took after the bathroom confrontation was a disaster—I could barely focus on the questions, Lydia's words playing on repeat in my head. You're nothing. You don't belong here. You're not worthy.
I know they're lies. I know that. But knowing something intellectually and believing it emotionally are two very different things.
The second Aiden sees my face, something in his expression softens.
"Come here," he says simply, opening his arms.
I go to him without hesitation, letting him pull me against his chest. He holds me tight, one hand stroking my hair, and I feel some of the tension start to drain from my shoulders.
"Rough day?" he murmurs against the top of my head.
"You could say that."
"Want to talk about it?"
I think about telling him everything—about Lydia cornering me in the bathroom, about her desperate fury and broken dreams, about the way her words burrowed under my skin despite my best efforts to ignore them.
But I'm so tired of talking about Lydia. Tired of giving her power over my thoughts, my feelings, my relationship with Aiden.
"Not really," I say instead. "I just want to forget today happened."
He pulls back slightly to look at me, his blue eyes searching my face. Whatever he sees there makes him nod.
"Okay. Come on."
He takes my hand and leads me to his room. I'm starting to think of it. The space has become so familiar over the past weeks: his scent saturating the air, my things scattered among his, the bed where we've spent countless hours studying and talking and just existing together.
"Here." He tosses me one of his hoodies—soft grey cotton that smells like him. "Get comfortable. I'll be right back."
He disappears into the bathroom while I change, grateful to shed the clothes I've been wearing all day. The hoodie falls to mid-thigh on me, the sleeves hanging past my fingertips. It's warm and comforting and feels like being wrapped in Aiden himself.
When he returns, he's changed too—wearing just sweatpants and a t-shirt, looking more relaxed than I've seen him all week. He climbs into bed and opens his arms in invitation.
I don't hesitate. I crawl across the mattress and curl up against him, my head finding its favorite spot on his chest. His arms wrap around me immediately, holding me close, and I feel the bond settle into something warm and content.
"Better?" he asks softly.
"Better," I confirm.
For a while we just lie there in comfortable silence. I listen to his heartbeat, steady and strong beneath my ear. His hand traces lazy patterns on my back, soothing and grounding. The stress of the day starts to feel distant, manageable.
"Can I ask you something?" I say eventually.
"Anything."
"Do you ever regret it? The bond, I mean. The complication I brought into your life?"
His hand stills on my back. "Never. Not for a second."
"But your family's expectations—"
"Are their expectations, not mine." He shifts slightly so he can tilt my chin up, making me look at him. "My father wanted me to bond with Lydia. To create a powerful alliance between the Moonfall and Blackwood packs. And maybe that would have been easier, more politically advantageous. But it wouldn't have been you."
"Aiden—"
"The bond didn't choose Lydia," he continues, his voice firm. "It chose you. And even if it hadn't—even if there was no bond at all—I think I still would have chosen you."
The words hit something deep inside me, cracking open a dam I didn't know I'd built. All the doubts Lydia planted, all the whispers about not belonging, all my own insecurities about being worthy of this—they start to crumble under the weight of Aiden's certainty.
"What about you?" I ask, needing to redirect before I start crying. "Do you ever worry about the future? About how this is all going to work with three of you?"
He's quiet for a moment, considering. "Honestly? Yes. All the time."
The admission surprises me. Aiden always seems so confident, so sure of himself.
"The bond situation is unprecedented," he continues. "Three heirs bonded to one mate? There's no roadmap for this. No pack law that covers it. We're making it up as we go."
"Does that scare you?"
"It terrifies me," he admits. "Not the sharing—though that's hard too. But the uncertainty. Not knowing if we're doing this right. Worrying that my need to claim you, to have you as just mine, might hurt you or my brothers."
I prop myself up on my elbow so I can see his face better. "You've been dealing with all of this and never said anything?"
"I didn't want to add to your stress." His smile is a little sad. "You're juggling three mates, harassment from Lydia, the pressure of proving yourself at this school. I didn't want my doubts to make it harder."
"Aiden." I cup his face with my free hand. "We're supposed to be partners. That means sharing the hard stuff too, not just the easy parts."
"I know. I'm still learning how to do that." He turns his head to kiss my palm. "My whole life I've been trained to be strong, to have all the answers, to never show weakness. It's hard to break those patterns."
"You don't have to have all the answers," I tell him. "And showing me your doubts, your fears—that's not weakness. That's trust."
"I know the bond complicates everything," he continues quickly, like he needs to get it all out before he loses his nerve. "I know we're still figuring out what this means, how it works with Rowan and Cian. But I need you to know—it's not just the bond for me. I love you, Malia. The person you are, the way you make me feel, the future I see when I imagine you beside me."
My breath catches in my throat.
"And I know that's a lot," he rushes on, misreading my silence as hesitation. "You don't have to say it back. I just needed you to know. Needed you to understand that whatever happens with the bond, with my brothers, with everything else—you have my heart. Completely."
"Aiden." I stop him by pressing my finger to his lips. "Breathe."
He obeys, taking a shaky breath, his eyes still searching mine with that vulnerable intensity.
I move my hand from his lips to his cheek, holding his gaze. "I love you too."
The smile that spreads across his face is radiant, transforming him from serious alpha heir to the boy who steals kisses between study sessions.
He kisses me then. Softer, sweeter, carrying the weight of confession and promise. His hands cradle my face like I'm something precious, and I feel the bond sing between us—not with lust or possession, but with something deeper. Something that feels like coming home.
When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard, both smiling.
We settle back into our previous position—me tucked against his side, his arms wrapped securely around me. But something has shifted. The air feels lighter, the bond humming with contentment between us.
His breathing starts to even out, and I feel myself drifting too. The stress of the day, Lydia's hateful words, all the doubt and fear—it all feels distant now, manageable.
Because I have this. I have him. And he loves me.
"I love you," I whisper into the darkness, not sure if he's still awake to hear it.
His arms squeeze me gently in response. "I love you too," he murmurs, already half-asleep. "Always."
I close my eyes and let myself drift, wrapped in Aiden's arms, surrounded by his scent, the bond humming contentedly between us like a lullaby.
Tomorrow we'll deal with Lydia and exams and the complicated reality of three mates and one bond.
But tonight, there's just this: two people who love each other, tangled together in the dark, finding peace in each other's arms.
And for now, that's everything.