Aria’s POV
"You need to eat."
Mira shoved a plate of toast in front of me, but I pushed it away.
"I'm not hungry."
"You look like a ghost," Mira said, sitting across from me at our small kitchen table. "A ghost with a very expensive scarf."
She pointed her fork at my neck. I had wrapped a fresh silk scarf around the bandage this morning. It was high-collared and tight.
"Damon gave me a ride last night," I said quietly.
Mira dropped her fork. It clattered loudly on the ceramic plate. "He what?"
"It was raining. He saw me walking and he made me get in."
"And?" Mira leaned forward, her brown eyes wide. "Did he say anything? Did he smell you?"
"He smelled the rain," I said, picking at the crust of the toast. "He… he leaned in close. He knew something was wrong and he wanted to see my neck."
"Oh, Goddess," Mira breathed. "What did you do?"
"I told him Kade marked me," I whispered.
Mira’s jaw dropped. She looked like I had just told her I had set the Packhouse on fire. "You told the future Alpha…your true mate that his jerk of a brother claimed you? Aria, are you insane? He’s going to kill Kade or worse, he’s going to hate you."
"Good," I snapped, though my heart felt like it was being squeezed by pliers. "Let him hate me. If he hates me, he stays away and if he stays away, he doesn't find out I’m the 'mystery woman' he’s obsessed with. He’s supposed to marry Lyra Fenn, Mira. He has a pack to lead. He doesn't need a broken, bond-less girl who was his brother's leftover."
"You aren't a leftover," Mira said softly, reaching across the table to touch my hand. "You're his mate."
"I'm a liability."
I stood up, grabbing my bag. I couldn't sit here and talk about feelings. If I stayed still, the guilt would catch up to me.
I had to get to the archives. I had to bury myself in paper and dust where the world couldn't reach me.
The Packhouse was buzzing when I arrived.
Warriors were running drills in the courtyard, and the scent of adrenaline and sweat was thick in the air.
I kept my head down, moving toward the side entrance that led to the library and archives.
I almost made it.
"Aria! Stop."
I squeezed my eyes shut for a second before turning.
It was Beta Thorne and he ooked more exhausted than usual, his massive frame hunched over a stack of documents.
"Alpha Damon wants you in the strategy room," Thorne said, not looking up.
"The strategy room? I’m an archivist, Beta. I belong in the basement."
"He said it’s about the historical territory lines. There’s a dispute with the Clevehowl border. He needs the original maps, and he needs the person who knows how to read them." Thorne finally looked at me. "Don't keep him waiting. He’s in a mood."
A mood. That was an understatement.
When I pushed open the doors of the strategy room, the temperature seemed to drop ten degrees.
The room was grand, filled with high-backed chairs and a massive stone table with a map of the territory carved into the surface.
Damon was standing at the far end, staring out the window. He didn't turn around when I entered.
"Lock the door," he commanded.
My hand trembled as I turned the key.
"The maps are in the third cabinet, Alpha," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "I can go get them—"
"Forget the maps." He turned around slowly.
He looked haggard. His hair was a mess, and his blue eyes were bloodshot. He looked like he hadn't slept a wink since he dropped me off. "We need to talk about Kade."
"There's nothing to talk about," I told him, backing toward the door. "It’s my private life."
Damon moved so fast I didn't see him cross the room. Suddenly, he was in my space, his hands slamming against the door on either side of my head, pinning me.
"He didn't do it," Damon growled, his face inches from mine.
"What?"
"I saw Kade this morning at training," Damon hissed. "I provoked him. I told him I saw the mark he gave you. Do you know what he did, Aria? He laughed. He said he hadn't touched you since the breakup and he said you were probably 'begging for it' from some rogue in the woods."
The blood drained from my face. Kade, the idiot. Of course he would deny it just to insult me.
"He’s lying," I stammered. "He’s just embarrassed because—"
"Stop lying!" Damon roared.