Aria's POV
"Mate."
The word echoes in my head like a scream.
No. This can't be happening.
The silver-eyed man stares at me from the alley entrance. His face shows nothing. No shock. No joy. No recognition.
Just cold, empty ice.
My wolf is going crazy inside me, howling and clawing. She wants to run to him. Wants to touch him. Wants to claim what's ours.
But I stay frozen, my back pressed against the dumpster.
He takes a step forward. Then another. His movements are smooth and predatory, like a wolf stalking prey.
"You," he says quietly. "I know your scent."
My heart hammers. Does he remember me from ten years ago? Does he know I'm the pathetic child he left to die?
"I don't know what you're talking about," I lie.
His eyes narrow. "Don't play games with me, rogue. I can smell the mate bond. I felt it the second I entered this alley."
So he knows. He feels it too.
The bond between us is like a living thing, pulling us together. My chest aches with the need to be closer to him. Every cell in my body screams that he's mine.
But his face stays cold. Emotionless.
"This is a mistake," I say, my voice shaking. "The Moon Goddess got it wrong."
"The Moon Goddess doesn't make mistakes." He steps closer, now just a few feet away. "But she has a twisted sense of humor."
The words sting like a slap. So that's how he sees this—as a joke. A cruel trick.
"I didn't ask for this," I snap, anger rising through the fear. "You think I want a mate who looked at me like trash ten years ago?"
His eyes flash with surprise. "What?"
"You don't remember, do you?" I laugh bitterly. "Ten years ago, you found me on a dirt road. I was eight years old, freshly exiled, and begging for help. You told me I'd die within a week and drove away."
Recognition dawns on his face. "The Nightshade girl. The one who killed her sister."
"I didn't kill her," I say through clenched teeth. "It was an accident."
"That's not what I heard." He crosses his arms. "The whole supernatural world knows the story. Alpha's daughter takes her sister to a forbidden river. Sister drowns. Mother commits suicide. Father exiles the killer."
Each word is a knife to my chest.
"You don't know anything about what happened," I whisper.
"I know enough." His silver eyes bore into me. "And yet here we are. Mates."
The word sounds wrong coming from his mouth. Mates are supposed to love each other. Protect each other. Want each other.
He looks at me like I'm a problem that needs solving.
"We can reject the bond," I say quickly. "Right now. You can reject me and find someone worthy. Someone from a good pack. Someone who isn't—"
"A rogue?" He finishes. "A killer? A liability?"
"Yes," I whisper, hating how much the words hurt.
He's quiet for a long moment, studying me. I can't read his expression. Can't tell what he's thinking.
Finally, he speaks. "No."
I blink. "What?"
"I said no. We're not rejecting the bond." His voice is firm, final.
"But you don't want me," I say, confused. "You just said—"
"I said the Moon Goddess has a twisted sense of humor. I didn't say I was rejecting you." He takes another step closer. "You're my mate. That means you're mine, whether I like it or not."
The possessive tone in his voice makes my wolf purr. But I'm not my wolf. I'm a girl who learned the hard way that belonging to someone usually means pain.
"I don't want to belong to anyone," I say, backing up until I hit the dumpster.
"Too bad." He reaches out and grabs my wrist. The moment his skin touches mine, electricity shoots through my whole body. The mate bond flares to life, hot and intense and overwhelming.
I gasp. He does too, his grip tightening.
"Let go," I try to pull away, but he holds firm.
"Feel that?" His voice is rough now, not as controlled. "That's the bond. It's real. It's strong. And it's not going away."
"I don't care," I lie. "I've survived ten years without a mate. I can survive the rest of my life the same way."
"No, you can't." His eyes flash silver—wolf eyes. "Look at you. You're starving. Covered in bruises. Living in alleys and eating garbage. How much longer do you think you'll last out here?"
"As long as I need to," I snap.
"You're eighteen," he continues like I didn't speak. "Do you know what happens to young female rogues? They get captured. Sold. Worse."
"I can take care of myself."
"Can you?" He yanks me forward, making me stumble into him. I'm so close now I can feel the heat coming off his body. "Then why do you have a black eye? Why are your ribs bruised? Why do you smell like you haven't eaten in days?"
I hate that he's right. Hate that he sees how weak I really am.
"That's none of your business," I say.
"It's exactly my business." His free hand comes up to my face, tilting my chin so I have to look at him. "You're my mate. That makes your safety, your health, your survival my responsibility."
"I don't need you to save me."
"Maybe not." His thumb brushes across my cheekbone, and the touch sends shivers down my spine. "But I'm going to anyway."
Before I can argue, he bends down and scoops me up. One arm goes under my knees, the other behind my back.
"Put me down!" I struggle against his hold, but he's way too strong.
"No." He starts walking out of the alley, carrying me like I weigh nothing.
"Where are you taking me?" Panic rises in my chest.
"Home."
"I don't have a home!"
"You do now." He stops next to a black SUV—the same one from ten years ago. He opens the passenger door and sets me inside, then closes it before I can escape.
He's in the driver's seat in seconds, locking the doors.
I try the handle. Locked. "Let me out."
"No." He starts the engine.
"This is kidnapping!"
"This is protecting my mate." He pulls out of the alley and onto the street. "You can fight me all you want, but I'm not leaving you in that alley to die."
"I wasn't dying!"
"You were dying slowly." His hands grip the steering wheel tight. "Starvation. Exposure. Violence. Eventually, something would have killed you."
"Better than being someone's prisoner," I mutter.
He glances at me, and for the first time, I see something other than coldness in his eyes. Something that might be hurt.
"Is that what you think this is?" he asks quietly. "A prison?"
"What else would you call it? You're taking me somewhere against my will."
"I'm taking my mate to safety." He turns back to the road. "There's a difference."
"Not to me."
We drive in tense silence. I watch the city pass by through the window, my mind racing. This can't be real. My mate can't be the same man who left me to die as a child.
But he is.
And now he's taking me to his territory. His pack. His home.
I should be terrified. Part of me is. But another part—the part that's been alone for ten years—feels something else.
Hope.
I crush it down immediately. Hope is dangerous. Hope gets you hurt.
"We need to talk about your future, mate," he says after a while.
The word 'mate' sounds wrong and right at the same time.
"I don't have a future," I say bitterly. "I'm a rogue. An exile. The girl who killed her sister, remember?"
"You keep saying you didn't kill her."
"I didn't."
"Then what really happened that day at the river?" He looks at me with those intense silver eyes.
I open my mouth to answer, but the words stick in my throat. I haven't talked about that day in ten years. Haven't let myself really remember.
"I..." I start, then stop.
"Take your time," he says, and his voice is surprisingly gentle.
But I can't. I can't tell this story. Can't relive that nightmare.
"Why do you even care?" I ask instead. "You think I'm a killer. Everyone does. Why would my mate be any different?"
"Because I can smell lies," he says simply. "And when you say you didn't kill her, I don't smell any deception. Just pain. Just guilt. Just grief."
The words break something inside me. Tears burn my eyes, but I blink them away.
"It doesn't matter what I say," I whisper. "No one believes me."
"I might." He glances at me. "If you give me a chance."
A chance. That's all I've wanted for ten years. Someone to listen. Someone to believe.
But trusting this man—this powerful Alpha who once called me pathetic—feels impossible.
"Where are we going?" I ask, changing the subject.
"My territory. Stormfang Pack lands."
Fear shoots through me. A pack. Other wolves. People who will look at me and see a killer.
"I can't go there," I say quickly. "Your pack won't want me."
"They'll accept what I tell them to accept." His voice is hard now, full of Alpha command. "You're my mate. That makes you untouchable."
"And if I don't want to be your mate?"
He's quiet for a long moment. Then: "Too late. The bond is already there. We can ignore it, fight it, hate it—but we can't unmake it."
He's right. I can feel it—the invisible rope connecting us. It hurts and heals at the same time.
"You're going to regret this," I say softly.
"Maybe." He doesn't look at me. "But that's my problem, not yours."
We drive for another hour. The city disappears, replaced by trees and mountains. We're heading into pack territory now. I can feel it—the power in the land, the magic that marks boundaries.
Finally, he pulls up to a huge gate. Guards step forward, see him, and immediately open it.
We're in Stormfang territory now.
No turning back.
"What's your name?" he asks suddenly.
"You don't know my name?"
"I know you're a Nightshade. I don't know your first name."
"Aria," I whisper.
He tests it, rolling it around in his mouth. "Aria."
It sounds different when he says it. Almost beautiful.
"Aria," he says again, pulling up to a massive building. "Welcome to your new home."
I stare at the pack house—huge, intimidating, full of wolves who will hate me.
"This is a mistake," I whisper.
He finally looks at me, and his expression is unreadable.
"Probably," he agrees. "But you're mine now. And I protect what's mine."