Chapter 3 - Aria

By the time I made it home, the sky had turned a pale, aching blue—the kind that felt like it had too much memory in it.

I barely made it through the front door before the weight of the day began crashing down on me. My hoodie clung to my skin, damp with sweat. My hands were trembling. My heart hadn’t stopped its uneven rhythm since I left Ridgewood Tower.

Gran looked up from her crossword, her eyes narrowing the moment she saw me.

“You’re pale,” she said. “And hot. Come sit down.”

I dropped onto the couch, limbs heavy, heart loud.

She moved slowly—always with that quiet grace—but I could feel the tension beneath it. She brought me a glass of cold water and sat down beside me, her knees creaking softly.

“How was your first day?”

I opened my mouth. Closed it again.

How could I even begin to explain it?

“It was… fine,” I managed. “Weird. Damon Thorn—he trained me himself.”

Her eyebrows lifted, just a little. “Him? On a Saturday?”

I nodded.

Something in her face shifted. A flicker of memory or fear.

“What’s he like?” she asked carefully.

I didn’t answer right away.

How do you describe someone who makes your bones ache with awareness? Whose presence feels like a storm on your skin?

“He’s… intense,” I said at last. “I don’t know. He looked at me like he knew me. Like—like he was waiting for something.”

Gran stared at me for a long moment. Then set the crossword aside.

“You’re getting close,” she murmured.

“Close to what?”

She stood. Walked toward the kitchen. “Your birthday.”

I blinked. “My birthday isn’t for a week.”

“Exactly,” she said over her shoulder. “That’s what I mean.”

When she came back, she had a plate of stew and a fresh slice of sourdough. She set it in front of me like it was armor. Something warm to hold me to the earth.

“You’re not like other girls, Aria. I’ve tried to let you live quietly. But I’ve also prepared for this. Just in case.”

“Prepared for what?”

She sat down again. Her voice dropped.

“On your eighteenth birthday, something may change. Something will. Your mother… she was like you. And she didn’t get to explain everything before she—”

Before she disappeared.

The room felt too small.

“Damon Thorn,” she continued, “he’s not just a businessman. And you need to be careful. Because if what I suspect is true…”

She didn’t finish.

She didn’t have to…

An hour later, she ran me a cold shower and handed me an oversized T-shirt before sending me to bed with an herbal tea I couldn’t name.

I slipped under the covers, mind racing. The water had cooled my skin, but not the fire inside me.

Not the way Damon’s touch haunted me. The way his voice settled behind my ribs.

I tossed. Turned. Closed my eyes.

And fell into a dream.

I stood barefoot beneath a giant tree.

The ground pulsed. The bark shimmered with silver veins that moved like lightning.

The moon hung low—too close.

My fingers twitched.

Someone approached from the edge of the woods, soft as smoke.

My mother.

She looked just like the photo Gran kept hidden in her old jewelry box. Auburn hair like mine. Pale eyes. She was dressed in white and shadow, and her voice wrapped around me like silk.

“You’re awakening,” she said softly. “He feels it too.”

“Who?” I asked, even though I already knew.

She stepped forward, pressed her hand to my heart.

“Be careful who you give this to.”

I tried to ask more, but the forest shifted—and I fell through it.

I woke up gasping.

Sweat slicked my skin.

My pillow was wet—from tears I hadn’t realized I shed.

I didn’t know why I was crying.

Only that when I thought of Damon… the ache in my chest turned into something else. Something raw and lonely.

I needed him.

I wanted him.

And as I lay there, staring at the moonlight filtering through my window, the feeling began to grow.

The skin under my shoulder had left an mprint that I could still feel aching under my skin. His breathe smelt of rain and ice that was relieving the fire under my skin.

As I found myself lost in drowning thoughts of him, my soft fingers trailed over my waist where he had gently grabbed me and I instantly imagined him lifting me of my chair and nuzzling his full lips inro the back of my ear. I imagined his lips trailing down to the nape of my neck as I stretched my neck for him.

I slowly moved my hands beneath my tshirt and felt the swell in my breats acros my hardened nipples.

I took a full breast and squeezed them so gently and imagined they were Damons large strong hands. I could srill smell his scent lingering over me of Smoked citrus peel, crushed black pepper.

The aroma turned me on so much I could feel my core screaming for attention at the thought.

My right hand with a mind of it’s own dripped down to my core and found the slits between my sweet spot already soaking beneath my soft, black laced thong.

I felt the moon shining across my belly through the window and had an erotic thought, that it was watching me, and the thought ripped my lust into overdrive….