Chapter Four: Welcome to the Pack House, I Guess

Aria — POV

Being carried over Damon Blackthorn’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes was NOT how I imagined my morning going.

Especially not after dying, resurrecting, spilling tea, being declared a mate, and attempting a dramatic escape.

But here we were.

“Put me down!” I yelled, kicking my legs.

“No,” Damon said calmly, like I’d asked him to pass the salt.

“This is kidnapping!”

“It’s escorting.”

“Against my will!”

“Still escorting.”

I groaned. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re stubborn.”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“Still taking it.”

Behind us, Damon’s Beta followed, trying very hard not to laugh. Tall, blond, broad‑shouldered — the kind of man who looked like he bench‑pressed wolves for fun.

“Beta,” I said upside‑down, “what’s your name?”

He grinned. “Rylan.”

“Rylan, can you tell your Alpha to put me down?”

“No,” he said cheerfully. “This is the most entertainment I’ve had all year.”

I groaned louder.

By the time we reached the pack house — a massive stone mansion with balconies, banners, and enough windows to make a vampire cry — Damon finally set me on my feet.

I wobbled.

He steadied me.

I slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me.”

He raised a brow. “You ran.”

“And you chased me!”

“You’re my mate.”

“I’m also allergic to drama.”

Rylan snorted. “You picked a great Alpha then.”

Damon shot him a look. Rylan shut up instantly.

We walked toward the entrance — and that’s when I noticed the crowd.

Dozens of pack members stood outside, staring at me like I was a cursed object someone accidentally brought home.

Whispers spread like wildfire.

“That’s her?”

“The human‑looking one?”

“She doesn’t look like a Luna.”

“She looks… ordinary.”

“She looks like trouble.”

“She looks like she hasn’t brushed her hair.”

“She looks like she fell down the stairs.”

“She looks like she spilled tea on herself.”

I smiled sweetly.

“Hello, everyone. Yes, I’m alive. No, I don’t know why either.”

Gasps.

Rylan choked on air.

Damon pinched the bridge of his nose.

A woman whispered loudly, “She’s an abomination.”

I turned to her. “Sweetheart, if I’m an abomination, you’re a whole disaster.”

Rylan burst out laughing.

Damon’s jaw twitched — the “I’m trying not to smile” twitch.

Another man sneered. “She’s not fit to be Luna.”

I shrugged. “Good. I don’t want the job.”

More gasps.

Someone dropped a basket.

Damon growled. “Enough.”

The crowd fell silent instantly.

He stepped beside me, close enough that I could feel the heat of him.

“This is Aria,” he said. “My mate.”

The crowd murmured.

I waved. “Hi. Please don’t throw tomatoes.”

Rylan whispered, “We don’t throw tomatoes.”

“Good,” I said. “I bruise easily.”

Damon shot me a look. “Aria.”

“What?” I asked. “I’m being polite.”

“That’s not polite.”

“It’s polite for me.”

He sighed like he regretted every life choice that led him to this moment.

A tall, elegant woman stepped forward — clearly someone important.

“Alpha,” she said, “with respect… she doesn’t belong here.”

I smiled. “Trust me, I agree.”

Damon growled. “Aria belongs wherever I say she belongs.”

I blinked. “Okay, that’s a little possessive.”

“It’s the truth.”

“It’s still giving ‘toxic romance novel.’”

Rylan coughed to hide a laugh.

Damon glared at him. “Rylan.”

“Sorry, Alpha. She’s funny.”

“I’m not trying to be funny,” I said. “I’m trying to survive.”

The elegant woman crossed her arms. “She’s weak.”

I shrugged. “So is your foundation. I can see the cracks from here.”

Rylan wheezed.

Damon stared at me like I was a puzzle he couldn’t solve.

Then he said, “Aria. Come inside.”

“No.”

He blinked. “No?”

“No,” I repeated. “I’m not stepping into that house until everyone stops staring at me like I’m a cursed potato.”

Rylan nodded. “Fair.”

Damon glared at him again.

I crossed my arms. “I’m serious. I’m not going in there until they stop acting like I crawled out of a grave.”

“You did crawl out of a grave,” Rylan whispered.

“Rylan,” Damon growled.

“Sorry.”

The crowd kept staring.

Judging.

Whispering.

Waiting for me to break.

I didn’t.

I lifted my chin and said loudly:

“If anyone has a problem with me, please form a line so I can ignore you one at a time.”

Silence.

Then—

Rylan: snorts

Damon: jaw clenches

Crowd: offended gasps

Me: proud

Damon stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Aria… you’re making this harder.”

“No,” I said. “I’m making it honest.”

He stared at me.

Really stared.

Then he said something that made my stomach flip:

“You’re going inside.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

We glared at each other.

Rylan whispered, “This is better than TV.”

Finally, Damon sighed.

Then he did the thing I feared most.

He picked me up.

Again.

Over his shoulder.

Again.

I screamed. “PUT ME DOWN!”

“No.”

“Damon!”

“No.”

“THIS IS KIDNAPPING!”

“It’s mate relocation.”

“RYLAN!” I yelled. “HELP ME!”

Rylan shrugged. “Sorry, Luna. I like my job.”

“I’M NOT LUNA!”

“Not yet,” Damon said.

I kicked my legs. “I hate you!”

“You don’t.”

“I DO!”

“You don’t.”

The crowd watched in stunned silence as Damon carried me into the pack house like a chaotic bride.

And me?

I screamed the whole way:

“I WANT A REFUND ON THIS MATE BOND!”

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