Aria didn't realize she had brought home a storm, the night she saved him.
.
.
The rain had not yet stopped since the fight. Outside, the forest groaned beneath the weight of the downpour. Branches snapped and the thunder rolled low like an ancient growl. But inside the cabin, only the crackling fire broke the silence.
Aria out of habit rather than need, sat by the window as she sharpened her blade. Every stroke of metal against the stone, matched the rhythm of her heartbeat; uneven and restless. Her gaze instinctively drifted to the cot again.
He was still there. Damien, the stranger with gold eyes and too much power to be called a man. Even unconscious, he still radiated danger. His skin gleamed faintly under the firelight; every scar and muscle mapped by the shadows.
The scars on his body weren't just battle marks. She realized; they looked like the kind left by silver. The kind she'd seen once before, on someone she never saved in time. His chest rose and fell in slow but deep breaths that carried the scent of pine and wolf musk; raw and wild.
Aria spontaneously tore her eyes away, scowling at herself. "Get a grip, Ria, he's still a stranger. "She growled. "…a threat, I should say." But then, her inner wolf seems to disagree; it didn't listen. It whispered instead: low and eager in her chest. "Mate."
Aggravated by the whole ordeal, her lips pressed against each other until they hurt. That word had no place in her world. Not after everything she'd lost.
Her scent hit him like wildfire; pine, rain, and something he couldn't name. His wolf wanted to sink its teeth into her throat in a vow of possession. But the man in him; the man was terrified of what that meant.
Her thoughts kept tormenting. Just then, a low yet guttural noise made her spin to its source.
A growl caught her off guard as Damien's hand shot out, catching her wrist before she could blink. His fingers were hot, strong and unyielding.
She impulsively froze in her bones, her pulse thundering as a result. He was this close; their breath matching each other. His movements fluid despite the wounds that should have crippled him.
"You shouldn't be this close," he said, his voice gravelly and soft, yet commanding.
"You're in my cabin," she shot back, though her voice wavered. "I'll stand wherever I want." She sounded quite aggressive yet composed.
"You're trembling." He noticed as his thumb brushed against her pulse.
"I'm not," she lashed back in a lie. Just like lightening, her body betrayed her. Her heart raced, breath caught with heat pulling deep inside. She intuitively yanked her wrist free and backed away. "You're healed enough to leave."
"I'm not leaving." His tone was low but final. "Not until I understand why my wolf won't stop reaching for you."
Aria's throat went dry; flabbergasted yet furious "That's not my problem."
"It is," he countered as he rose to his full height. The movement drew her gaze and she took in his broad shoulders, battle-hardened muscles with eyes that carried centuries of violence. "You saved me when you shouldn't have. You felt it too, didn't you? The pull."
Her silence answered enough; to which Damien stepped closer, each footfall deliberated. His presence took over the small cabin, stealing the air. "Say you didn't feel it," he murmured, "and I will walk out that door right now."
She couldn't find her voice, her breath hitched and her wolf howled in protest. But her pride and fear kept her standing still. "I don't owe you anything," she whispered as she looked away from him.
He snarled, a faint smile filling his face. Not a kind smile but something darker. "That's not what I asked."
The fire crackled louder and every sound seemed to vanish beneath the gravity between them. Then without warning, Damien reached up, brushing a damp strand of hair from her cheek. The touch was featherlight yet it burned.
"Why are you doing this?" she breathed.
"Because pretending not to want doesn't make it less real," he said, voice husky. "Because my wolf is clawing to claim you." She tensed, primal and undeniable.
Aria backed up until her spine met the cabin wall. "Don't," she whispered, though it sounded more like a plea than a command. He stopped, close enough for her to feel the heat radiating off his skin. His eyes softened, just a little. "You think I'd hurt you?"
"I think you already are," she said quietly.
Something flickered across his face—pain, restraint, something ancient. "You don't understand what I am."
"Then explain it," she said, meeting his gaze. "Because right now, all I see is a wounded Alpha in my home, growling like I'm prey."
He leaned closer, his breath hot against her temple. "I'm not growling because you're prey," he whispered. "I'm growling because you're mine."
With his words, her heart slammed against her ribs. Her wolf pushed forward, drawn to his voice and scent. But Aria bit it back, trembling. "You can't just decide that."
"It wasn't me," he said softly. "It was the Moon." His voice broke on the last word, the kind of pain that didn't belong to a killer but a man who'd lost too much already.
For a long moment, neither spoke. Only the storm outside answered. After a few seconds, Damien finally stepped back. The firelight flickered across his sharp features. "You should rest. I'll take the floor."
"I don't need your protection."
His lips instinctively curved. "Maybe not." Damien, said "…but I'm not sleeping while you're standing guard."
Without any further words, Aria turned away, pretending to busy herself with the firewood. But she failed miserably. Every time he moved, her wolf stirred and every time he breathed, her body reacted.
The storm howled outside, but inside, something far more dangerous had begun.
Not a fight and not even a kiss but something in between. The raw tension before both: the wolf in her cabin had awoken something wild in her. And she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to put it back to sleep.