03: A Wild Friend

Zolani’s POV

Snow fell thick and lazy over Dublin Airport, blanketing the roofs and the old stone pillars like someone had torn open a bag of powdered sugar and shaken it over the entire country. The air smelled sharp, cold pine, jet fuel, and something darker, richer, older. Old money. Werewolf money. The kind that built castles before America was even a fever dream.

I barely had time to shiver before a shriek ripped through the arrivals hall.

“ZEE, YOU SEXY VIRGIN BITCH!”

There she was, Aradia Blackthorne in all her unhinged glory vaulting over the barricade like an Olympic hurdler, boots up to her thighs, white faux-fur coat hanging open, wild black curls flying everywhere. She waved a massive cardboard sign that just said ZOLANI in bright red lipstick, hearts doodled all over it. People turned to stare. Phones came out but i trust her to not give a single fuck.

I hadn’t even dropped my suitcase before she tackled me, arms crushing my ribs, perfume and snow and pure chaos slamming into me.

“You’re here! You’re actually fucking here!” She spun me so hard my carry-on went flying. “I told Dad you’d show, but he was all ‘humans are flaky little creatures, she’ll bail.’ Ha! Pay up, Daddy!”

Daddy.

The word punched me straight between the legs and my knees almost buckled.

Aradia finally let me breathe, grabbed my face with both gloved hands, and kissed me square on the mouth, loud, dramatic, tasting like peppermint schnapps at ten in the morning. “Goddess, I missed your prissy little Catholic face.”

I laughed, but it came out shaky. My eyes were already scanning the crowd like a junkie looking for a fix... black hair, storm-grey eyes, shoulders that could block out the sun. Nothing. Yet every hair on my body stood up like he was watching from the shadows anyway.

Aradia snatched my suitcase from my numb fingers and shoved it at a liveried driver who looked terrified of her. Then she hooked her arm through mine and dragged me outside into the snow like a hurricane wearing lip gloss.

The car waiting for us was obscene, matte-black Maybach, longer than my apartment, tinted windows darker than sin. The driver opened the door and the scent hit me first, leather, cedar, and that same dark spice that lived in my nightmares and my wet dreams. I almost moaned out loud.

Aradia shoved me into the back seat, climbed in after me, and slammed the door. The partition was already up. Privacy glass. Of course.

She flopped back against the seat, kicked her boots up on the opposite armrest, and grinned like a demon who’d just been handed the keys to hell.

“So. How’s the fiancé? Has Saint Evan finally stuck his sad little human dick in you, or are we still waiting for papal approval?”

My jaw dropped. The driver definitely heard that. “Aradia!”

“What?” She shrugged, completely unbothered. “Relax. They’re paid to pretend they’re deaf. Besides...” she leaned in, nostrils flaring theatrically...“I can smell you from here, Zee. You’re leaking like a broken faucet. Unmated wolves are gonna lose their shit if you walk around the lodge smelling like a walking invitation to breed.”

Heat flooded my face. “I am not...”

“Bullshit.” She reached over and pinched my thigh hard. “Your scent’s so strong right now I could bottle it and sell it as aphrodisiac. Virgin cunt on desperate mode. Delicious.”

I slapped her hand away, mortified and turned on at the same time. “You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re starving.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Don’t worry, bestie. Two weeks with me and we’ll have you properly deflowered. I’ll find you a nice wolf boy with a knot the size of...”

“Aradia, I swear to God...”

“Relax, I’m kidding.” She paused, grin turning evil. “Mostly.”

Then, without warning, she lunged, both hands grabbing my boobs through my sweater and squeezing like she was testing fruit.

I shrieked so loud the driver swerved.

“Jesus Christ, Aradia!”

She cackled, falling back into the seat, tears streaming. “Look at you! Still got the factory seal and everything. I’m doing charity work here.”

I clutched my chest, heart trying to punch through my ribs. “You’re literally the devil.”

“Nah. Just the devil’s favorite daughter.” She wiped her eyes, still giggling.

“Speaking of... Dad’s at the lodge already. Been in a pissy mood for days. Something about pack politics and a rogue on the border. You’ll see him at dinner. Try not to faint when he walks in. I swear the man’s presence drops panties at fifty paces.”

My stomach flipped so hard I tasted metal but I shook my head to push the thoughts off my head. The man in question is my best friend’s father and I'm a good girl… a good girl with a faithful and lovely fiancé. So get it together Zolani… get your whore shit together!

Aradia kept talking, filthy, joyful, unstoppable, but I barely heard her. The car climbed higher into the mountains, snow thickening, pines closing in like walls. Every mile felt like a countdown.

Then the lodge came into view.

It wasn’t a house. It was a fortress carved from black stone and old money, windows glowing gold against the white, towers clawing at the sky. Smoke curled from a dozen chimneys. Wolves,actual wolves lounged on the front steps like they owned the place.

And standing at the top of the stairs, arms crossed, coat open despite the cold, was Cassian Blackthorne.

He didn’t move or wave, not like I was expecting him to, he just watched the car approach with those storm-grey eyes that had ruined me four months ago.

The driver stopped and my door opened.

Aradia hopped out, still laughing about something crude.

I couldn’t move.

Because Cassian’s gaze locked on me through the open door, nostrils flaring like he’d just caught the scent of his favorite meal and the slow, filthy smile that spread across his face told me one thing and one thing only... he knew, like he really knew exactly how wet I was and dinner hadn’t even started yet.