My fingers tighten around the phone 137

Aria’s POV
I’m not sure how long we remained intertwined, my sobs eventually fading into soft, uneven breaths. Ethan held me
without hurry, his strong arms a sanctuary I hadn’t known I needed. The steady rhythm of his heart against my cheek
became my anchor. When I finally gathered enough courage to look up, the raw emotion in those forest-green eyes made my breath catch in my throat.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” I managed, my voice raspy and broken. The pad of his thumb traced the damp trail on
my cheek with such tenderness that my skin tingled beneath his touch. “There was never any other option for me,” he
whispered, the simple words somehow sounding like a vow.
Ethan lowered his head, his nose skimming along my temple and into my hair. A low, primal sound rumbled in his chest—
half growl, half purr—as he inhaled deeply. His fingers, strong yet impossibly gentle, wove through my tangled locks,
guiding my face back to the shelter of his chest. I melted against him, surrendering to the warmth that radiated through
his thin shirt. In his embrace, something long-broken inside me began to heal.
When his exploration led him to the sensitive curve where my neck met my shoulder, I couldn’t help but arch into him,
tilting my head to silently beg for more. The slight scrape of his stubble against my sensitive skin sent electricity dancing
down my spine.
“Something’s changed,” he murmured, his lips brushing my skin with each word, making it impossible to think clearly.
“Your scent… it used to be impossible to detect, but now…” His voice dropped lower, becoming almost predatory. “Now I
can’t get enough of it.”
My pulse quickened as panic flared. Could his alpha senses detect the twins? When I tried to create distance between us,
his arms only tightened, one broad hand splaying possessively across my lower back.
“It’s intoxicating,” he murmured, his voice a low growl, oblivious to the storm raging inside me. His breath, scalding
against my ear, sent shivers racing down my spine, my knees buckling beneath the weight of his presence. His lips
brushed my pulse, lingering with a deliberate, teasing pressure that set my skin ablaze.
My body turned traitor, igniting under his touch with a primal hunger. My fingers dug into his shoulders, caught in a
maddening tug-of-war—shoving him back one moment, clawing him closer the next.
When his mouth found that tender hollow where my neck dipped into my shoulder, a molten wave surged from his lips,
searing through my flesh and pooling hot and heavy between my thighs. A soft moan slipped from me, unbidden, and
his eyes flared with a dark, feral hunger. Then his lips crashed into mine, a collision of need.
His hands roamed my back, rough and possessive, before gripping my hips and hoisting my legs around his waist. My
throbbing core pressed against the hard ridge of his cock, straining through his pants, and I gasped into his mouth. My
arms coiled around his neck, fingers twisting into his thick hair as our kisses deepened, wet and frantic, a collision of
teeth and tongue.
Then—a sharp, grating scrape pierced the fog of our lust. I tore away, chest heaving, lips swollen. “What was that?” I
panted, my voice trembling with the aftershocks of desire.
Ethan cursed as he kicked the coffee table, causing us to stumble backward until we collapsed onto the small couch, me
straddling his lap. I couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped me at our graceless descent. He pressed his forehead
against mine, joining in with a low chuckle that vibrated through his chest.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said, his breathing still uneven. “I shouldn’t be doing this.”
“It’s not just you,” I breathed, leaning in until our lips were just a whisper apart. “Trust me, I want this just as badly.”
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The chuckle that escaped Ethan’s throat was rough, almost strained. “Believe me when I say I’d like nothing more than to
continue this,” he murmured, his hands tightening on my hips in a way that made my skin burn through the fabric. “But we should slow down.” His thumbs traced maddening circles just above the waistband of my pants. “You’ve just faced
your father and cut ties with your pack. That’s not something to take lightly.” Even as the logical words left his mouth, his
actions betrayed him—his nose trailing a hot path along the column of my throat, inhaling as if he couldn’t get enough.
“Sweet moon above, you’re intoxicating. Please stop me right now.”
1/2
A soft laugh bubbled from my chest as I gathered every scrap of self-control to lift myself from his lap, immediately
missing the heat of his body against mine. I straightened my thoroughly rumpled blouse, trying to regain some
semblance of dignity. “I heard you finally cut ties with Emma. Care to share that story?”
“The rumors are true,” he confirmed, running fingers through his hair that I’d thoroughly disheveled. His eyes still held
that predatory gleam that made it difficult to concentrate. “But I’m not sure I can form coherent sentences right now.” He
paused, his gaze traveling slowly down my body and back up in a way that made me feel simultaneously exposed and
cherished. “Have dinner with me? Just the two of us?”
“Not tonight, but tomorrow sounds perfect,” I replied, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. “I’ll need to
arrange for Zoe to watch Lucas. We have so much ground to cover, and…” I hesitated, my hand instinctively moving
toward my stomach before I caught myself. “There’s something important you need to know.”
As I took a few steps back to put safe distance between us, my legs collided with something solid. The same scraping
sound from earlier caught my attention. Glancing down, I discovered an elaborate gift basket overflowing with various
treats. “Is this your doing?” I asked, eyebrow raised.
“Your father’s peace offering,” Ethan explained.
I examined the contents warily. Among the assortment, only a single bottle of Silver Moon apple cider remained sealed—
my absolute favorite since childhood. A sudden tightness formed in my throat. This wasn’t just any cider—it was the
special reserve from our northern orchards, notoriously difficult to obtain even for pack members. He must have gone to
considerable trouble to get it.
A twinge of regret for the harshness of our confrontation flickered through me. For a moment, I wondered if I should
have tried harder to make him understand, to find some middle ground.
“I’ll keep just this,” I told Ethan, lifting the bottle from its nest of tissue paper. “The rest can be tossed. I can’t trust Bella or
my stepmother.”
Ethan’s expression shifted, eyes narrowing dangerously. “They’ve done that before?”
“Once was enough,” I replied with a humorless smile. “My wolf was killed by this.”
Concern etched lines between Ethan’s brows as he studied me intently. I couldn’t bear the sadness in his eyes, so I
stepped forward and pressed my lips gently against that worried furrow. “Don’t look so troubled. I’ve managed just fine
with a muted wolf.”
“More than fine,” he murmured, capturing my free hand and bringing it to his mouth. His lips brushed across my
knuckles, lingering just long enough to send shivers racing up my arm. “You’re extraordinary exactly as you are.” His
thumb traced small circles on my wrist, making it difficult to remember why we had decided to stop. “Go home, rest, and
hug that amazing son of yours.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, reluctantly slipping my hand from his grasp. “Tomorrow, then?”
The smile that spread across Ethan’s face was slow and deliberate, full of promise and heat. His eyes darkened as they
held mine. “I’ve already started counting the minu