14. Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen
Aria
I sit cross-legged on the bed, flipping through a book I'm not even reading, my mind too tangled to focus.
A sharp knock breaks through my thoughts.
Frowning, I close the book and walk to the door. When I open it, I am greeted by Rook, Bane's beta.
"Rook?" I ask, my eyebrows lifting in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"Good evening, Aria," he says, his tone formal as always. He holds out a sleek black box with the Devereux crest embossed on it. "The Alpha asked me to deliver this to you."
I blink at the box, then back at him. "What is it?"
He shrugs nonchalantly, though there is a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Open it and find out."
I hesitate, unsure what to make of this sudden delivery. "And he couldn't bring it himself?"
Rook's lips twitch as if he wants to smile but he knows better. "The Alpha has… other matters to attend to. Enjoy the evening, Aria."
Before I can ask more questions, he nods and walks away, leaving me standing there with the mysterious box.
I carry it back inside and set it on the bed, eyeing it like it might explode. With a sigh, I undo the ribbon and lift the lid.
The contents take my breath away.
Inside is the most beautiful dress I've ever seen—a deep emerald green gown that shimmers under the light. Nestled beside it are matching heels, sparkling earrings, and a delicate bracelet.
"What in the world…" I mutter, lifting the dress to inspect it further. The fabric is soft, luxurious, and clearly tailored to fit perfectly.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, drawing my attention. I pick it up and see a text from Bane.
Bane: There's a pack party tonight. I expect you to wear the dress.
I stare at the message, my lips pressing into a thin line. Right, the pack party. I'd heard whispers about it in the past few days but had completely forgotten amidst everything else.
I quickly type back: This isn't necessary. I don't need all this, Bane.
His reply is immediate.
Bane: It's necessary. The maids will be there shortly to help you get ready.
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. Of course, he'd make a production out of this.
Me: I'm perfectly capable of dressing myself.
Bane: You're perfectly capable of arguing, too. Humor me, Aria.
I groan, tossing my phone onto the bed.
As if on cue, a soft knock sounds at the door again. When I open it this time, three women stand there, their arms full of hair and makeup tools.
"Good evening, Luna," one of them says with a polite smile.
"Luna?" I repeat, startled.
"The Alpha asked us to assist you," the other lady steps inside as if this is entirely normal.
"Wait, wait," I hold up a hand. "I didn't agree to—"
"Please, Luna," the first woman interrupts. "It would make the Alpha very happy."
I bite back a groan, knowing I've already lost this battle. "Fine. Let's just get this over with."
The next hour flies by with the women working quickly but meticulously, styling my hair into soft waves and applying subtle but elegant makeup.
When they finally step back, I can hardly recognize the person staring back at me in the mirror.
"You look stunning, Luna,"
"I'm not—" I start, then stop myself. What is the point?
The maids leave after ensuring everything is perfect, leaving me alone with my reflection. I stare at myself for a moment, then at the dress laid out on the bed.
With a resigned sigh, I slip into it. The fabric hugs my curves in all the right places, flowing elegantly as I move. The shoes fit perfectly, and the jewelry adds just the right amount of sparkle.
I pick up my phone to text Bane again, but there is no point. I already know he won't take no for an answer.
Instead, I grab my clutch and head out, determined to get through the evening without letting him get under my skin.
I head down the hall to Elias's room, my dress flowing behind me as I move. I am not entirely sure why I am going there.
When I open the door, I find him curled up in bed, his small chest rising and falling into the steady rhythm of sleep. The sight of him like that, so peaceful, tugs at something deep inside me. He is my world, the one thing I'd done right in my chaotic life.
His personal maid, Mia, appears in the doorway behind me. "He fell asleep not long ago," she says softly.
I nod, brushing a hand through Elias's messy hair. "Could you stay with him tonight? Just in case he wakes up."
"Of course, Luna," she replies.
I wince at the title but don't bother correcting her. Everyone seems intent on calling me that, no matter how many times I insist I am not their Luna.
"Thank you, Mia," I say, standing.
"Enjoy the party," she says with a warm smile.
Enjoy. Sure.
I close the door behind me and make my way downstairs, the sound of laughter and music growing louder with each step. The pack house is alive with energy, wolves chatting and mingling, their smiles bright and their spirits high.
Bane is standing at the center of it all, his presence commanding without even trying. He is speaking with a group of pack members, his voice steady and authoritative, but his expression softens as his eyes find mine.
"Aria," he says, excusing himself and walking toward me.
"Bane," I reply, my tone neutral.
His gaze sweeps over me, lingering for a moment. "The dress suits you."
"Was this your way of ensuring I'd show up?" I ask, crossing my arms.
He smirks. "It worked, didn't it?"
I roll my eyes but can't suppress the small smile tugging at my lips. "You're insufferable."
"And yet, here you are," he says, his voice low and teasing.
Before I can respond, a pack member approaches us. "Alpha, the northern patrol reported back. Everything is clear."
"Good," Bane says with a nod before turning away as an old couple walks in.
As he moves through the crowd, I can't help but notice how people gravitate toward him.
"Everyone, settle down!" Bane's voice booms over the chatter, drawing everyone's attention to the center of the room.
The crowd falls silent almost instantly. He stands tall, his expression firm yet approachable, and I find myself watching him, unable to look away.
A guard whispers something in his ear, and he nods toward me. Moments later, another guard approaches, this time turning to me.
"Luna," he says, dipping his head respectfully.
I frown slightly at the title but let it slide. "Yes?"
"The Alpha has requested your assistance," he says, gesturing toward a group of younger wolves standing by the food table. "There's been a bit of a mix-up with the seating arrangements, and we could use your help sorting it out."
I glance toward Bane, who is now deep in conversation with an older wolf. His attention is completely occupied, yet he'd somehow thought to involve me in this.
"Of course," I say, straightening. "Lead the way."
The laughter and chatter gradually die down as the party winds to a close. Guests begin trickling out in pairs and groups, their murmured goodbyes echoing softly through the dimly lit halls. Even as the crowd thins, I can't seem to relax. My eyes keep drifting to Bane, who moves through the room.
He nods at a few lingering guests, exchanging polite words, but his gaze always finds its way back to me, lingering just long enough to make my heart race.
I try to keep my distance, pretending to be engrossed in the glass of champagne I've been nursing for far too long. I can't talk to him—not now, not after what happened the last time we were alone.
God, why can't I stop thinking about it? The way his hands gripped me, the way his voice sounded when he growled my name, the way he left me. It's infuriating.
Get a grip, Aria.
I press the rim of the glass to my lips, hoping the fizz will distract me. But then, I feel it—his presence, electric and overwhelming, even before I see him.
"Enjoying yourself?" His voice is low, smooth, but it vibrates through me, making my stomach twist.
I glance over, and there he is, standing just close enough to set me on edge. His eyes bore into mine, and the faint scent of leather and cedarwood wraps around me, dragging me back to that night.
"Fine," I reply curtly, stepping away as subtly as I can manage.
He tilts his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Fine? That doesn't sound very convincing."
"Maybe because I didn't come here to enjoy myself," I snap, taking another deliberate step back.
His expression shifts, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced with something darker. Something that makes my pulse quicken.
"Why are you running from me, Aria?" he asks, his tone soft but unrelenting.
"I'm not—"
"Yes, you are," he cuts in, his voice a quiet challenge. "You avoid looking at me, you flinch when I get too close. Admit it—you're running."
"You're imagining things," I say, turning away before he can see the lie in my eyes.
"You're lying."
My breath catches as his hand wraps around my wrist, firm yet careful, pulling me back toward him. His touch burns, and I hate how my body reacts—how my heart races, how my knees weaken.
"Let go," I demand, my voice trembling despite my best effort to sound strong.
"No."
He takes a step closer, his towering frame making it impossible to look anywhere but at him. "You're lying to yourself, Aria."
I shake my head, refusing to let him see the truth written all over my face. "I'm not."
"Then why are you shaking?"
The challenge in his voice is unbearable, and I hate how much I want to prove him wrong.
"Go to hell, Bane," I mutter, brushing past him.
But I don't make it far.
"Aria." His voice stops me.
When I turn back, the raw hunger in his gaze steals the breath from my lungs.
When his fingers brush mine, I know I already lost.
The rest of the room fades as he pulls me into him, his lips crashing against mine with a desperation that leaves me breathless. My glass slips from my hand, shattering against the floor, but I don't care.
His hands are everywhere—tangling in my hair, gripping my waist, pulling me impossibly closer. My protests dissolve into moans, my body betraying every ounce of resistance I've tried so hard to maintain.
I don't even realize we've stumbled into my room until I hear the door slam shut behind us. His lips trail down my neck, teeth grazing my skin in a way that sends shivers racing through me.
"Tell me you don't want this," he murmurs, his voice rough and filled with challenge.
I can't.
Instead, I pull him closer, my nails digging into his shoulders as his hands slide under my dress. He growls in approval, his lips finding mine again with renewed hunger.
Just as his hands bunch the fabric of my dress to pull it over my head, something catches my eye—a folded piece of paper lying on my pillow.
"Wait," I gasp, breaking the kiss.
He growls in frustration, his hands freezing. "What now?"
"There's... something on my pillow," I manage, my voice barely a whisper.
His eyes flick to the note, and his expression darkens. He pulls away reluctantly, grabbing the paper before I can.
His face hardens as he reads it, the jagged handwriting almost violent against the page. Without a word, he hands it to me.
"Leave. You don't belong here. Take your half-breed son and go before it's too late."
My blood runs cold as I read the words, my hands trembling.
Elias.