Chapter Four

Aria’s POV

The archives were quiet and smelt of old books.

I liked it. It felt safe and comforting.

For the last four hours, I had been organizing files from fifty years ago.

My hands were gray with dust, and my back ached, but I didn't stop.

If I stopped, I would think and if I thought, I would remember the feel of Damon’s teeth on my neck, and I would scream.

"You've been staring at that same page for ten minutes."

I jumped, dropping the file. It hit the floor with a slap that echoed.

Damon was leaning against the doorframe of the back room.

He had taken off his tactical jacket, leaving him in a black t-shirt that strained against his chest. His arms were crossed, biceps flexing as he watched me.

He shouldn't be here. He was the Alpha-in-training. He had patrols to lead, budgets to sign, warriors to yell at.

Why was he spending his Tuesday afternoon watching me organize tax records from 1970?

"I'm being thorough," I lied, bending down to pick up the papers.

Damon moved before I could blink. One second he was at the door, the next he was crouching in front of me, his hand covering mine on the scattered papers.

Heat shot up my arm. It wasn't just warmth, it was a jolt of electricity that made my wolf snap her head up and whine.

I snatched my hand back like he was fire.

Damon frowned, his eyes narrowing. "You're jumpy."

"I told you," I said, keeping my head down so my hair curtained my face. "I'm just... nervous. You're the boss."

"I don't make my other employees shake just by walking into the room."

He stayed crouched, forcing me to look at him. His blue eyes were intense, searching for something he couldn't name. He took a breath, inhaling deeply.

I froze. The scent blockers. I had reapplied them in the bathroom an hour ago, layering the chemical paste so thick it made my eyes water. But being this close...

"You still smell like a hospital floor," he muttered, sounding annoyed. He really hates my smell, he won’t shut up about it.

"Hygiene is important," I said weakly.

Damon let out a short, rough huff that might have been a laugh. He reached out, his fingers brushing a smudge of dust off my cheek. The touch was gentle… shockingly gentle.

"You have dust on your face," he said softly.

My breath hitched. I looked at him, really looked at him.

The harsh lines of his face were softer this close up. He looked tired and there were dark circles under his eyes, the sign of a wolf who wasn't sleeping.

Because his mate was missing, because of… me.

Guilt twisted in my stomach.

"Damon?"A feminine voice cut through the moment.

Damon stiffened. The softness vanished instantly, replaced by a stone mask. He stood up, towering over me again.

I scrambled to my feet, clutching the file to my chest.

Standing in the main doorway was Lyra Fenn.

She was stunning. There was no other word for it. Tall, with platinum blonde hair that fell in a sleek sheet down her back. She wore a red dress that cost more than my entire life, and her lips were painted to match. She looked like a queen.

And she looked at me like I was a cockroach beneath her feet.

"Lyra," Damon spoke. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see my fiancé," she smiled, walking into the room. Her heels clicked on the stone floor. "The Elders said you were burying yourself in work. I didn't realize your work involved... whatever this is."

She waved a manicured hand at me.

"Aria is the new archivist," Damon said. He didn't move toward her nor did he offer a hand or a cheek. He just stood there  like a statue.

Lyra stopped in front of him, placing a hand on his chest. "Archivist, how quaint. Well, send her away. We need to talk about the engagement party. My father is asking for a date."

I felt a wave of nausea. Engagement party. Right, the alliance.

"There is no date, Lyra," Damon said, stepping back so her hand fell away. "I already told the Elders and  your father that I am not marrying you."

Lyra’s smile didn't falter, but her eyes turned into chips of ice. "Don't be difficult, Damon. It's politics. You need the Clevehowl alliance to secure your seat. Thorne can't hold the pack forever."

"I will secure my seat on my own," Damon growled. "I have a mate."

The room went dead silent.

Lyra laughed. It was a cold, tinkling sound.

"The mate you met in the woods? The one who ran away? Damon, please. That was a hallucination, probably a stress dream from how hard you’ve been working or  maybe just some slut from the village who tricked you."

"Watch your tone," Damon warned.

My wolf bristled, growling low in my chest. Don't talk about us like that.

"She isn't real," Lyra pressed, stepping closer again. "If she were real, she would be here. She would be claiming her place but she's not. I am... I am here, Damon. I am the one with the army and the money and the status to make you Alpha."

She turned her head and looked at me. "Girl. Fetch us some coffee. Black for him, herbal tea for me."

I blinked. "I'm not a maid, I'm the archivist."

Lyra’s eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?"

"I don't work for you," I said, my voice shaking slightly but holding firm. "I work for the pack. My job description involves files, not tea."

Lyra’s face turned an ugly shade of red. "You little—"

"Enough," Damon barked.

He stepped between us, shielding me from her view. "Aria is right. She isn't your servant. If you want tea, go get it yourself."

Lyra stared at his back, her mouth open. She wasn't used to being told no.

"You're choosing a servant over me?" She hissed venomously.

"I'm choosing respect," Damon said. "Leave, Lyra. I'm working."

She glared at his back for a long moment, then shifted her glare to me. If looks could kill, I would be long dead on the floor.

"This isn't over.” She spun on her heel and stormed out.

Damon let out a long breath and ran a hand through his hair, messing up the dark strands. 

He turned to look at me.

"I apologize," he said stiffly. "She has no manners."

"It's fine." My heart was pounding. He had defended me and had rejected her all because he was waiting for his mate.

He was waiting for me and I was standing three feet away, lying to him, but I wasn’t willing to reveal myself to him. I can’t do that.

"Why didn't you tell her?" I asked quietly. "That you... that you marked someone."

Damon looked at me, his blue eyes guarded. "Because until I find her, until she accepts me, it's just a mark. A rejection would kill the bond."

He took a step closer. "Why do you care, Aria? You seemed pretty eager to break your own bond yesterday."

The accusation stung.

"That was different," I whispered. "Kade cheated."

"And if he hadn't?" Damon asked. His voice dropped, becoming rougher. "If he had been loyal? Would you still be with him?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly.

Damon stared at me, his gaze dropping to my mouth. For a second, just a second, I thought he was going to lean in.

Then he blinked, and the wall came back up.

"Go home, Aria," he said coldly, turning back to his desk. "It's late. Leave the files for tomorrow."

I nodded, grabbing my bag. "Goodnight, Alpha."

"Goodnight."

I practically ran out of the office. My skin was tingling, my wolf pacing in circles. I needed air. I needed distance.

I pushed open the heavy front doors of the Packhouse and stepped out into the cool evening air.

The sun was setting, painting the sky in bruised purples and reds.

I took a deep breath, trying to clear the scent of Damon from my nose.

"You were in there a long time."

I stopped.

Kade was leaning against the stone railing at the bottom of the stairs. He was wearing a leather jacket, looking every bit the bad boy he pretended to be.

"I work there, Kade," I said, walking down the steps. "It's a job."

He pushed off the railing and fell into step beside me. "With Damon? In that tiny back room? Alone?"

"The door was open."

"I know how he is," Kade said, his voice dripping with poison. "He takes what he wants and he has always been jealous of me and of what I have."

I stopped walking and turned to face him. "Jealous of you? Kade, he’s the future Alpha. You’re... you."

Kade’s jaw tightened. "See? That’s what everyone thinks. That he’s better but he’s not. He’s cold, ruthless, broken and mental. Mom says he’s unstable."

"Don't talk about him like that," I snapped.

Kade grabbed my arm. "Why are you defending him? Did something happen in there?"

He leaned in, sniffing my neck. I froze. The scarf. The blockers.

"You smell like him," Kade accused, pulling back with a sneer. "You smell like his cologne."

"I was in his office," I said, yanking my arm free. "Of course I smell like him. The whole room smells like him."

"I don't like it," Kade said. His eyes were dark, possessive. Not loving. Just greedy. "You're mine, Aria. We might be on a break, but you're still mine. I marked you first."

"You don't have a mark on me anymore," I reminded him. "I broke it."

"I can put it back," he whispered, reaching for me again.

"Don't touch me!"

I shoved him and he stumbled back, looking surprised.

"Stay away from me, Kade," I said, my voice trembling with rage. "Go back to Sarah or whoever else you're sleeping with this time. Just leave me alone."

I turned and walked away, walking fast toward the village.

"You'll come back!" Kade yelled after me. "You always do! You're weak without me, Aria!"

I didn't look back. I kept walking until my legs burned. I walked past the village, past the shops, toward the small cluster of apartments near the edge of the territory.

The sky opened up and it started as a drizzle, then quickly turned into a downpour. Cold rain soaked through my clothes in seconds.

I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself. Great. Just great.

I kept my head down, trudging through the puddles. The water ran down my neck, soaking the bandage, soaking the scarf.

Wait. The water.

I stopped under a streetlamp. The rain was heavy and it was washing the paste away. I could feel the water running down my skin, carrying the chemical scent with it.

I reached up to touch my neck. The scarf was soaked and the paste was dissolving. If anyone smelled me now...

A pair of headlights cut through the darkness.

A black SUV slowed down beside me. The window rolled down to reveal Damon.

Of course. Of course it is him.

"Get in," he shouted over the rain.

"I'm fine!" I yelled back. "I like walking!”

"Aria, get in the damn car. You're shivering."

He wasn't asking. He unlocked the passenger door.

I hesitated. If I got in that car, in this small, enclosed space, with the blockers washing off...

But if I stayed out here, Kade might follow me or rogues. I had barely escaped them the last time.

I opened the door and climbed in.

"Thanks," I muttered, shivering violently,

Water dripped from my hair onto his leather seats.

Damon didn't drive away immediately. He was gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white and was sniffing the air.

My heart stopped.

"The rain," he murmured.

"Yeah," I said, my voice high and panic-stricken. "It's really coming down."

"No," Damon said. He turned his head slowly to look at me. His eyes were glowing, not the usual blue but black . His wolf was at the surface. "The scent."

He leaned toward me and u swallowed hard as I pressed myself against the door. "Damon, drive. Please."

He ignored me and leaned closer, invading my space. His nose brushed against my wet hair.

He inhaled deeply, a long, shuddering breath.

"Rain," he whispered. "And... vanilla."

That was my natural scent. Vanilla and rain.

He pulled back slightly, his gaze locking onto mine. He looked like a man who had seen a ghost.

"Aria?"

The way he said my name... it wasn't the boss talking to the employee. It was the mate calling to the mate.

"I... I changed my shampoo," I blurted out. "It's vanilla."

"Liar," he growled.

His hand was trembling as he reached for the scarf around my neck.