Chapter 8 ARIA
Aria's POV
I didn’t sleep a single damn minute.
Every time I closed my eyes, his face was there, those eyes, that voice, the way the air shifted around him like even the wind bowed when he spoke. Lucian. My mate. The Alpha I never asked for.
By the time dawn began to bleed into the edges of my curtains, I’d given up on trying. My body was exhausted, but my mind refused to stop running circles. So, I cleaned. The kitchen. The living room. The hallway. I scrubbed until my hands hurt and the floor shone, as if maybe polishing the wood would help polish away the chaos in my chest.
But it didn’t. It never did.
Nyra hummed softly in the back of my mind, patient and quiet for once.
“You’re spiraling again,” she said gently.
“I’m just keeping busy,” I muttered aloud, picking at a stubborn stain on the counter.
“You’re scared,” she countered.
“Wouldn’t you be?” I snapped, before sighing. “He’s an Alpha, Nyra. What if he’s like the others? What if he realizes I’m not what he thought I’d be? What if he…”
“Enough.” Her voice was firm, a comforting growl. “You are not what they made you believe. You are worthy. And the Goddess doesn’t make mistakes.”
I wanted to believe her. I did. But belief was a fragile thing, and mine had been shattered too many times before.
So I kept cleaning until the cottage smelled like lemon soap and wood polish. Until the sun had climbed fully into the sky and painted everything gold. My small cottage sat near the edge of Ashwood Pack territory, quiet and hidden. It wasn’t much, but it was mine. My freedom. My peace.
I glanced at the clock. 7:34 a.m. I wonder if he'll come by this morning or later in the day, we didn't discuss the details.
I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Messy hair. Tired eyes. My palms were damp. I didn’t even know what I was supposed to wear to meet my mate. Something simple? Something soft? Something that didn’t scream trauma survivor with a caffeine addiction?
In the end, I settled for a light sweater and jeans. It was casual, unassuming. I brushed my hair until it looked decent enough, dabbed a bit of gloss on my lips, and told myself to breathe.
Nyra purred softly. “You look beautiful.”
“Not right now I don't,” I muttered.
“Stubborn,” she replied, amusement in her tone.
Then my gaze fell on the small vial sitting by my nightstand, the suppressor pills.
For a moment, I just stared at them. That tiny capsule that dulled my scent, my essence, my truth. Nyx had made a stronger batch for me last night, even though she hated doing it. “You’re going to make your wolf sick,” she’d said. “You can’t hide forever.”
She was right. So was Nyra. But I wasn’t ready. Not yet.
I swallowed the pill dry.
Immediately, Nyra growled low, disappointed. “You really could do without those you know.”
“I can’t let him see me,” I whispered. “Not all of me. Not yet.”
“He’s your mate.”
“Exactly,” I said bitterly. “He has power over me just by existing. I can’t give him more.”
Silence fell between us heavy, thick with unspoken things. Then… a scent hit me.
Cedar and spice. The faintest trace of something wild and masculine that made every nerve in my body stand at attention. It was like the forest itself had stepped into my cottage.
Nyra’s voice went soft. “He’s here.”
My heart started pounding so fast it hurt. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans, took one deep breath, and another that wasn’t deep enough. Then came the knock it was firm but not demanding. Two short taps. I flinched like it was thunder.
When I opened the door, the world seemed to pause.
Lucian stood there, tall, dark hair slightly tousled, sunlight slicing across his features in a way that made him look carved from shadow and fire. His eyes met mine, and the pull hit again, sharp and undeniable.
“Aria,” he said, my name rolling off his tongue like it belonged there.
“Lucian,” I managed, though my throat felt tight.
For a heartbeat, maybe even longer we just stared. Then I stepped aside. “Come in.”
He hesitated for a fraction of a second before ducking under the doorway and stepping inside. The cottage suddenly felt smaller, the air denser. He didn’t even need to try; his presence filled every inch of the room.
“It’s nice,” he said after a moment, his voice low, rough. “Cozy.”
“Thank you,” I said softly, fingers twisting in front of me.
I offered him something to drink. He shook his head politely. I tried not to let the sting show, but he must’ve seen it because a beat later he added, “Coffee would be great, actually.”
That simple act, changing his mind just to make me feel better shouldn’t have meant so much. But it did.
While I poured the coffee, I could feel his eyes on me, studying, assessing. It made my skin tingle and my stomach twist all at once.
When I handed him the cup, our fingers brushed. My breath hitched.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
We sat across from each other, him at my small table, me pretending my heartbeat wasn’t echoing in my ears.
“How long have you lived here?” he asked, trying for casual.
“Two years,” I said. “Since… since Alpha Adrian took over my pack.”
He nodded slowly. “I see.”
Silence. The kind that felt like it could stretch forever if one of us didn’t break it.
Then he did. “I wanted to see you again,” he admitted, eyes steady on mine.
I blinked. “Why?”
His lips curved faintly, like he didn’t quite know either. “Because you’re my mine.”
My pulse stuttered. I didn’t know what to say.
“I’m not here to pressure you,” he continued quickly. “I just want to understand you. To know you.”
I swallowed. “There’s not much to know.”
He tilted his head, studying me again, and then, carefully, almost hesitantly, he asked, “You’re an Omega, aren’t you?”
The words hit like a slap.
My stomach turned cold. My spine went rigid.
He knew. How did he know?
I stared at him, shock, fear, anger all tangled together.
“What?” My voice came out sharper than I meant.
He frowned slightly. “I didn’t mean.., I only guessed. You don’t have to…”
“How would you even guess that?” I cut him off, rising to my feet. “Did you go digging around my past?”
His eyes widened, surprised. “No. I swear I didn’t. I just…” He reached out almost instinctively trying to touch me.
“Please,” I said tightly, stepping back. “Don’t.”
“Aria…”
“Just stop!” My voice cracked. “You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about me. So don’t act like you do.”
The air between us turned heavy, thick with tension and things neither of us knew how to say.
He stood slowly, setting the untouched coffee down. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said quietly. “That wasn’t my intention.”
“I think you should go,” I whispered.
He didn’t move at first. His jaw flexed, like he was fighting himself. Then he nodded once. “Alright.”
He walked to the door, paused, and looked back at me. “I’d like to see you again. Tomorrow, maybe?”
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. My throat was burning.
He gave me one last look, something raw flickering in his eyes, something like hurt before stepping outside and closing the door softly behind him.
The moment the latch clicked, my legs gave out. I slid down against the door, burying my face in my hands. The tears came fast, hot, relentless.
Nyra’s voice was soft again. “He didn’t mean harm.”
“I know,” I whispered brokenly. “I just… I ruin everything, don’t I?”
Silence. Just my shaky breaths and the echo of his scent still lingering in the air.
And for a long time, I just sat there… the stupid, trembling Omega who pushed away the only person fate had ever sent to her.