LOGIN- ARIAA year had passed since the garden ceremony, and the Stormbourne estate was hosting an anniversary party again — the same ballroom, the same chandeliers, the same long curved staircase I'd once stood at the top of, gripping the banister hard enough to leave marks in my palm, rehearsing the exact words I'd use to tell Luca I was leaving him before the night was over.I stood at the top of that same staircase now, smoothing the front of a dress considerably simpler than the one I'd worn that night, and found, looking down at the room below, that I couldn't immediately locate the version of myself who'd stood here once already planning an exit."You look like you're thinking very hard about something," Luca said, appearing at my side, two glasses of champagne in hand, one of which he passed to me without asking, the way he'd learned to do for the small things that no longer required negotiation between us."I'm thinking about the last time I stood at the top of these stairs," I ad
- ARIAWinnie found Aldrin in the kitchen after the ceremony, the two of them ending up there by the unremarkable accident of both wanting coffee at the same time while the rest of the gathering wound down in the garden. I caught the tail end of it on my way past for more napkins — Aldrin sliding a cup across the counter without asking how she took it, having apparently noticed, somewhere over months of drafting settlements together, exactly how she liked it."You rewrote the entire ceremonial language," I heard Winnie say, something in her tone considerably less professionally neutral than either of them probably intended.I didn't linger to hear the rest. From the look on Aldrin's face when I glanced back, I had a feeling that conversation wasn't going to stay confined to ceremonial linguistics for very much longer.Nova caught the bouquet that wasn't technically a bouquet — I'd simply handed her the leftover garden flowers from the ceremony, half as a joke, half because she'd been
- LUCAThe pack council didn't usually concern itself with the private reconciliations of its members, but my situation had never been entirely private, and Aldrin suggested, gently, that a small, formal acknowledgment might do more good than either of us expected — not a wedding, not a renewal of vows exactly, just a quiet gathering before the council and the wider pack, marking what had changed without performing a spectacle of it.Aria had agreed, on one condition."No vows about obedience," she'd told me, only half-joking. "If there's a single phrase in there about a Luna's duty to her Alpha, I'm walking out before the second sentence.""There won't be," I promised. "I asked Aldrin to rewrite the entire ceremonial language. He says it's the first time in pack history anyone's actually bothered."The gathering, when it came, was smaller than the wedding it quietly echoed — no cameras, no political optics, no Tyler's campaign hovering anxiously in the background. Tyler had won his p
- IVYThe divorce had finalized quietly, three months earlier, with neither of us contesting much of anything — a tired, mutual unraveling rather than a battle, the kind of ending that comes when two people have simply run out of reasons to keep fighting for something neither of them wants intact anymore.I'd moved into a smaller apartment on the other side of the city, the kind of practical, unglamorous space I hadn't lived in since before my marriage, and had spent the months since doing something I realized, with some surprise, I'd never actually done in my adult life: building something that belonged entirely to me, with no family name attached to it, no inherited safety net waiting underneath if it failed.The small floral design studio had started almost by accident — a favor for a friend's wedding, then another, then a referral that turned into a contract with an actual events company, modest but real, paid for entirely with my own invoices instead of anyone's quiet patronage.
- ARIAHelena arrived without calling ahead, which I noted immediately, given that every prior visit from her had been announced days in advance, scheduled, formal, designed to give both of us time to prepare our armor.She stood on the doorstep in a plain coat, no driver waiting at the curb, no assistant trailing a step behind with a folder of talking points. Just Helena, alone, looking smaller than I'd ever seen her look in six years of knowing her."I'd like ten minutes," she said. "I won't take more than that if you'd rather I didn't."I considered, briefly, the dozen reasons I might have had to close the door — six years of careful cruelty, of being called insufficient in a hundred polished, deniable ways, of watching this woman make Ivy's presence in every family gathering feel like a quiet, ongoing referendum on my own worth.I opened the door instead.We sat in the living room, the twins occupied in the next room with a tablet and Camilla's borrowed patience, and for a long mo
- HELENACamilla told me before Luca did, which I suspected was deliberate — a small mercy, giving me time to arrange my face before my son arrived to confirm it himself."They're trying again," she said, standing in the doorway of my study with the particular careful posture of a woman delivering news she expected to be unwelcome. "Properly. Aria withdrew the dissolution filing this morning."I set down my pen, very slowly, and said nothing for a long moment."You don't seem surprised," Camilla observed."I'm not." My voice was even, though something underneath it wasn't. "I've watched my son for six months not do a single thing I expected him to do. I'd have been more surprised if this ended any other way."She studied me for a moment longer, then left without pressing further.I sat alone in my study for a long time afterward, the unfinished letter in front of me forgotten, turning over something I'd been avoiding since the morning Luca had stood in this exact room and told me, pla
ARIAThe vibration of the tires on the asphalt was a low hum, but the tension inside the car was much louder. Brandon kept glancing at me, his wolf’s gaze searching my face for cracks. He’d heard the phone call. He’d felt the literal shockwave of Luca’s voice through the speakers."Aria," he said,
ARIAThe coast was finally clear.Luca had left at the crack of dawn for a "high-level acquisition" meeting that sounded boring and, more importantly, lengthy.He’d kissed my forehead—a lingering, confusing touch that still made my skin tingle—and vanished into the back of a black sedan.I didn't w
ARIAThe panic didn’t hit me all at once. It was a slow, sickening crawl that started in my stomach and ended with me frantically dumping the contents of my bag onto the backseat of the silver sedan.Lipstick. A crumbled receipt. My office ID. A stray pacifier I’d forgotten I was carrying. But no p
ARIAMy head hit the desk with a soft thump. The laminated wood was cool against my forehead, a small mercy compared to the fog currently occupying my brain."Aria? You’re still with us, or should I call an ambulance?"I peeled my face off the desk to see Tasha standing there, clutching a stack of







