The next morning, Aria woke with a weight pressing on her chest—not just the ache of what had happened, but the haunting memory of golden eyes and a voice that refused to leave her.
Forget me.
The command echoed in her mind, sharp as a blade.
But how could she forget him? The bond pulsed inside her like a second heartbeat, aching and relentless. She could feel him even now, somewhere in the forest, a presence tugging at her soul. It was maddening.
She tried to go about her day, but whispers reached her ears—strange rumors of shadows moving near the village, of animals vanishing, of people swearing they saw glowing eyes at night. She knew it was connected. She knew he was connected.
By dusk, she could no longer resist. The pull was too strong.
Aria found herself walking the same path into the woods, though this time her heart raced not with curiosity but with grim determination. She needed answers. She needed him.
The forest was alive with sound—branches creaking, owls calling, the distant rush of water. Yet beneath it all, she felt something heavier. A silence within the noise, a tension that prickled her skin.
She didn't have to search long.
Wolves appeared from the shadows, one by one, their eyes glowing in the fading light. They circled her, massive and imposing, their growls low and threatening. Aria stumbled back, her breath coming fast. These weren't ordinary wolves—she could feel their intelligence, their power radiating from every movement.
Panic clawed at her chest. She was surrounded.
And then a voice cut through the tension.
"Enough."
Damian stepped into the clearing.
Clothed now, though no less intimidating, he carried himself with the kind of authority that silenced the pack instantly. The wolves shifted back into human form, one after another, until she stood surrounded not by beasts but by men and women—tall, fierce, each of them watching her with suspicion.
Aria's pulse pounded. Dozens of eyes bore into her, sharp and unyielding. She had never felt so exposed.
Damian's gaze locked on hers, golden and unreadable. His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it that made her stomach twist.
"You should not have come here."
"I had to," she whispered, though her voice shook. "I need to understand what's happening to me. To us."
Murmurs rippled through the pack at her words. Some sneered, others scowled. One woman with raven hair stepped forward, her eyes narrowed in disdain.
"She knows. She speaks of the bond."
Another man spat on the ground. "A human? Our Alpha's mate is human?"
The words stung more than she expected. Heat rose to her cheeks, shame mingling with anger. She clenched her fists, but before she could respond, Damian lifted a hand, silencing them.
His jaw tightened, his voice firm. "There is no bond."
Aria's breath caught. The rejection twisted inside her again, sharp and merciless. She wanted to scream at him, to demand he stop lying, but the way he said it—the weight of his authority—drowned her voice.
The raven-haired woman smirked, her tone dripping with venom. "Then why is she here? Why bring a fragile little thing like her into our territory? She reeks of weakness. She doesn't belong."
Aria's chest tightened. Every word was a knife, cutting deeper into the wound Damian had already left.
Another man stepped forward, his broad frame towering over her. His eyes glowed faintly, even in human form. "Alpha, let us deal with her. Before she brings ruin to us all."
Fear surged through Aria. She didn't know what they meant, but the hostility was unmistakable. She was the intruder here, the unwanted outsider.
Damian's gaze flicked between his pack and Aria. For a long, agonizing moment, he said nothing. Then, finally, his voice cut through the murmurs, commanding and unyielding.
"She is under my protection."
The pack stilled. Shock rippled through their ranks.
Aria blinked, her heart leaping despite everything. Protection. He wasn't claiming her, but he wasn't letting them harm her either.
The raven-haired woman hissed. "Why protect her, if she means nothing to you?"
Damian's eyes darkened. "Because I said so."
The air shifted instantly, heavy with authority. No one dared defy him further.
But Aria's relief was short-lived.
Damian turned back to her, his expression unreadable. "You will not come here again. This is not your world, Aria Winters. Go home, and forget all of this. Forget me."
Tears stung her eyes, but she shook her head. "You can't keep denying it. I feel it, Damian. Every time I breathe, every time my heart beats—it's there. Between us. You feel it too, don't you?"
For the first time, his mask slipped. His eyes softened—just for a second. A flicker of pain, raw and unguarded, passed through him. Her breath caught, hope sparking in her chest.
But then it was gone, replaced by the same cold resolve.
"What I feel doesn't matter."
The words broke her.
She wanted to scream, to fight, but the weight of the pack's stares crushed her. They looked at her with disdain, with fear, as though she were nothing but a curse.
And maybe, she thought bitterly, to them she was.
Damian turned his back to her. "Take her to the edge of the territory. Make sure she does not return."
Two men stepped forward immediately, their grips firm on her arms as they dragged her away from the clearing. Aria struggled, her voice hoarse with desperation.
"Damian! Please! You can't just—"
But he didn't turn. He didn't even look at her.
The last glimpse she had of him was his broad back, rigid with tension, his shoulders heavy with the weight of a choice he refused to make.
As the pack hauled her through the trees, her tears fell freely. Every step away from him tore at the bond inside her, stretching it thin, aching as though her very soul were being ripped apart.
But beneath the pain, one thought burned like fire in her chest.
This wasn't over.
She would not be silenced. She would not walk away.
If fate had bound her to Damian Blackwood, then no rejection, no pack, no cruel words could sever that tie.
And deep down, she knew the Alpha felt the same.
No matter how hard he tried to deny it.
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