Aria didn't cry.
Not as she stormed up the stairs.
Not as she slammed her bedroom door shut behind her.
Not even when her legs gave out and she slid to the floor, chest heaving from everything she'd been holding in.
No—tears were too soft for what she felt.
She was angry. Boiling from the inside out. At Kain, at herself, at the damn moon goddess for tying her fate to a male who wanted her only when she wasn't his.
It wasn't fair.
Her fingers curled into the rug beneath her, trying to ground herself. But the imprint of his voice, his breath on her skin, the desperate confession he'd whispered into the charged air—they wouldn't leave her.
She hated him. She wanted him.
She didn't know which side was winning anymore.
A knock rattled her door.
"Aria? It's me."
Ash.
She hesitated, wiping her face with the sleeve of her hoodie. "Come in."
He stepped in carefully, his expression unreadable. "He hurt you."
Her breath caught. "I'm fine."
"You're shaking."
"I'm fine, Ash," she snapped, harsher than intended.
He didn't flinch. Instead, he moved closer and knelt in front of her. "You don't have to keep pretending."
Her throat tightened.
Ash was warmth. Calm. He didn't pull at the dangerous strings inside her. He didn't ignite the same wildfire Kain did. But right now? That felt safe. And safety was something she hadn't known in a long time.
"I don't know what to do anymore," she whispered.
Ash reached out slowly, brushing a lock of hair from her cheek. "Then don't think. Just be. With me."
Her heart skipped, but she didn't stop him as he leaned in. Their lips met—softly at first, his mouth gentle, careful. She kissed him back, trying to drown in the quiet affection of it. To bury the heat Kain had left in her veins.
But it didn't work.
Ash's kiss was sweet. But it wasn't him.
She pulled back slowly, resting her forehead against his. "I'm sorry."
Ash smiled sadly. "Don't be. I'd rather have a piece of you than none at all."
That hurt more than it should.
---
Across the estate, Kain stood alone on the training grounds, his fists bloodied and raw, his chest heaving with exhaustion. Dozens of shattered practice dummies lay strewn around him like battlefield corpses.
Still, it wasn't enough.
Nothing would be.
Not when he could still smell her. Not when her scent clung to his skin like a phantom. Not when he'd seen her walk away from him and into the arms of another.
He punched the sandbag again, a growl ripping from his throat.
"You're spiraling," a voice said behind him.
It was Elias, his Beta—and the only one bold enough to interrupt him in this state.
"Leave me," Kain snarled.
"No."
Kain spun, eyes flashing. "You forget your place?"
"No, Alpha. But someone needs to remind you of yours."
Kain's fists clenched at his sides. "Say what you came to say."
Elias stepped forward, meeting his gaze. "You rejected her. You made that choice. Now you're acting like a rabid dog because she's moving on?"
"She's mine," Kain growled.
"You can't have it both ways," Elias snapped. "You let your past dictate your future. You let your fear win. And now, you're punishing her for it?"
"I never meant to hurt her," Kain said quietly.
"Then stop hurting her."
The words struck like a blade. He turned away, silent.
"You need to decide, Kain," Elias said. "Before your obsession destroys both of you."
---
Later that night, Aria couldn't sleep.
She tossed in bed, sheets tangled around her legs, heart racing. Not because of Ash. Not because of fear. But because her body was burning.
It had started as a low simmer in her chest, spreading like wildfire through her limbs. Her skin tingled, her senses heightened. The moon outside her window glowed too brightly, and everything inside her howled in need.
Something was happening. Something... ancient.
She stumbled from bed, gasping, her body trembling with unfamiliar energy. Her skin was hot to the touch, her breathing shallow. She needed to cool off—needed air.
Throwing on a robe, she darted into the night, barefoot, sprinting across the grass as if the stars themselves were calling her.
She didn't know how or why, but her feet carried her to the forest.
And she wasn't alone.
Kain was there, shirtless, standing beneath the silver moonlight like a beast summoned by her need. His eyes found hers instantly, glowing with golden fire.
"Aria."
His voice was hoarse, strained, as if he'd been fighting something dark and dangerous all night.
Her body responded without thought. The tether between them pulled tight—so tight it hurt. The mating bond they had both tried to sever was roaring back with a vengeance, igniting in the sacred power of the moon.
"What's happening to me?" she whispered, swaying on her feet.
Kain reached her in two strides, catching her before she collapsed. His arms were strong, steady. And too familiar.
"It's the bond," he rasped. "The moon is awakening it. You're feeling what I've been fighting."
Her heart thudded. "Why now?"
"Because we're out of time."
Their eyes locked, and then the dam broke.
His lips crashed into hers—raw, desperate, consuming. There was no hesitation this time. No restraint. Their mouths moved in perfect sync, tongues colliding, teeth clashing, like two wolves claiming what was already theirs.
Clothes tore.
Flesh met flesh.
They sank to the earth, tangled in moonlight and need, in heat and rage and longing too long denied. Every touch was frantic, every kiss a plea. His hands gripped her thighs, her hips, her back, like he didn't know which part of her he needed more.
She arched beneath him, gasping his name.
"Kain—"
"I'll never let you go again," he growled, lips dragging down her neck, marking her in places the world would never see.
Their bodies moved as one, primal and perfect, bound by something older than fate.
And in that moment, everything shattered.