My fingers tighten around the phone 106

Ethan’s POV
I slouched in my leather chair, wincing as I closed my burning eyes, finally giving them momentary refuge from the harsh
glare of the computer screen. The spreadsheets had long since blurred into meaningless patterns of numbers and cells.
Truth be told, I wasn’t really working—I was waiting. Hoping. Each time footsteps echoed in the hallway outside, my heart would leap traitorously in my chest, only to crash back down when they passed by my door without stopping.
This morning, I’d spotted Aria entering the building at the same moment I arrived. I’d practically sprinted across the
parking lot, calling her name, desperate for just five minutes to explain about Emma, about that night, about everything.
But Aria had just looked at me with those haunted amber eyes, shaken her head once—a single, devastating rejection—
and walked away, her shoulders rigid with determination.
Weeks had crawled by since I’d held Lucas in my arms or heard Aria’s rare, musical laugh. The absence of them in my life
had carved a hollow space inside me that nothing else could fill. Meanwhile, my father’s directive loomed over me like a
storm cloud: “Choose a Luna, or I can’t name you Alpha.” My mother had already begun arranging “accidental” meetings
with daughters from prominent packs—women with impeccable bloodlines and accomplishments, none of whom made
my heart race like one glance from Aria.
The door to my office suddenly burst open with such force it slammed against the wall, the sound like a gunshot in the
quiet room. I bolted upright, my chair crashing backward onto the floor as my body reacted before my mind could
process what was happening.
David barreled in, his face tight with panic, his powerful arms cradling a limp figure against his chest. Words formed on
my lips—demands, questions—but died instantly when I saw who he carried.
Aria.
Her head hung back over David’s forearm, her midnight hair cascading like spilled ink. One arm dangled lifelessly,
swaying with David’s hurried movements.
Something primal and terrible tore through me, ripping past rational thought. Aria—my Aria—was hurt, and every cell in
my body screamed to protect her, to fix whatever was wrong, to tear apart anyone who had caused her harm.
“Ethan!” David’s voice yanked me back to reality. I cleared my throat, trying to prevent my voice from trembling.
“What happened?” I asked, rounding the desk to approach the couch where David was carefully laying Aria down.
David approached the leather couch with deliberate care, lowering Aria onto the cushions as gently as if she were made
of blown glass. Something primal and possessive clawed at my insides when he knelt beside her, tenderly cradling her
limp hand between both of his. The sight of his fingers wrapped around hers sent a white-hot surge of jealousy scorching
through my veins.
Mine. She should be mine.
I clenched my jaw so hard I could hear my teeth grinding, forcing down the urge to tear his hands off her with a violence
that shocked even me.
Not now. She needs help, not the pathetic territorial bullshit.
David’s eyes flicked nervously from Aria’s pale face to mine, his usual composure fractured. “I, uh, I’m not entirely sure,”
he stammered, looking more rattled than I’d ever seen him.
“What does that mean?” The words exploded from me, louder and sharper than I’d intended, the fear for Aria
transforming instantly to rage at his vague response. My voice echoed off the office walls as I stalked forward, looming
over them both. “Did you just find her like this? If so, where? Was she alone? Was anyone near her?” Each question came
faster, more insistent than the last. “We need to check the security cameras right now. If someone hurt her—” My voice
dropped to a dangerous growl, the promise of violence barely contained beneath the surface. My wolf stirred inside me,
fangs bared at the mere thought of someone harming her.
“Shut up,” Aria groaned softly, her eyelids fluttering slightly. David and I both sat back, giving her space. Aria slowly
opened her eyes, looking around the room. When her gaze landed on me, pain swirled in those amber eyes. I wished I
could freeze that moment, hold her in my arms until the pain disappeared from her expression. It had been too long
since Aria had been in my embrace, and my body craved to touch her, to be the support she needed.
When her gaze shifted to David, that pain quickly transformed into anger. “Not interfering in my personal life? Like you’re
doing right now?”
David shrugged, but I could see the tips of his ears turning red. “I didn’t know where else to go. You just passed out.”
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“Passed out?” I questioned, reaching out to cup Aria’s face, examining her for injuries. When my skin made contact with
her soft jawline, there was an electric sensation. I knew Aria felt it too because she gasped, almost instinctively leaning
into my touch. However, Aria quickly gave me a fierce glare, yanking her face from my hands. The pain of that rejection
was almost physical.
“I’m fine,” she said, giving both of us meaningful looks.
I sat back on the coffee table, facing her directly. “Well, if you’re fine, then explain why you passed out.”
Aria’s lips moved, her voice so faint I couldn’t catch the words despite my enhanced hearing. Then she exhaled sharply,
her shoulders slumping in defeat.
“This is none of your business, Ethan,” she said, each word precise and cutting.
Something inside me snapped. After weeks of being shut out, of watching her walk away, of drowning in whiskey to
numb the constant ache of her absence, my patience had worn dangerously thin.
“As your employer,” I countered, my voice deceptively calm while a storm brewed beneath, “you passing out while working is absolutely my business.” I gestured emphatically, my hands slicing through the air.
Aria recoiled as if I’d struck her, pressing herself deeper into the couch cushions, putting those few extra inches between
us that felt like miles. Her eyes darted toward the door—calculating escape routes—then back to David, a silent plea for
intervention. The naked panic flickering across her face sent a chill down my spine. What was she hiding that terrified her
so much?
“I don’t want to talk about this,” she insisted, her voice taking on that stubborn edge I knew too well.
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“You have to tell him,” David’s voice broke through the tense silence. “We had an agreement.”
My head snapped toward him so fast my neck cracked. “What agreement?” The question escaped as a low growl,
jealousy surging like poison through my bloodstream. My hands twitched at my sides, itching to grab him by his perfectly
pressed collar. Since when did Aria and David have private agreements? What else had they shared in my absence? The
very thought made me physically ill, a caustic mixture of betrayal and possessiveness churning in my gut.
Aria’s jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle jumping beneath her skin. She shot David a look of pure venom, the
two exchanging some silent communication that excluded me entirely. The casual intimacy of it was like salt in an open wound.
“Fine!” Aria finally exploded, throwing her hands up in a gesture of absolute surrender. “I lost my wolf, so my immune
system is compromised. I haven’t fully recovered from the flu Lucas passed to me, which is why I have dizzy spells.” She
fixed me with a withering glare. “Happy now?”
“Oh.” The syllable fell flat between us as I blinked in confusion. “I already knew that. Though I didn’t know it made you
pass out.” The inadequacy of my response hung awkwardly in the air.
Aria’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, how did you know?”
“Leo mentioned you hadn’t been at training for a while.” So Leo knew. David knew. Everyone but me was worthy of her
confidence? I was the last to know about something affecting her health, despite being the man who’d held her, kissed
her, loved her?
But this might be my only chance to finally talk to her, to break through those walls. I swallowed my pride, forced my
voice to steady. “David, step outside so I can speak with Aria.”
“No.” The word came simultaneously from both their lips, a perfect unison that struck me like a physical blow.
“Fine.” The word emerged as a feral growl. “Since you two have everything so well coordinated,” I spat through gritted
teeth, each syllable dripping with contempt, “then both of you can get the fuck out of my office.”