My fingers tighten around the phone 63

Ethan’s POV
I stood in the sterile hospital room of Shadow Fang territory, watching Emma recline against the crisp white pillows. Her
eyes, wide and imploring, fixed on me with practiced vulnerability.
“Please don’t go, Ethan,” she whispered, her voice trembling just enough to sound genuine. Her slender fingers reached
for my arm, fingertips applying the slightest pressure. “I’m feeling so unwell. Please stay with me a little longer.”
I gently removed her hand from my sleeve, trying to ignore the way Felix, my wolf, paced restlessly within me. My mind
kept drifting back to that rainy night six years ago, when alcohol had stripped away my control and reason. The
memories were fragmented but visceral—the unfamiliar hotel room, the intoxicating scent of the mysterious woman, the
way my body had responded to her presence with an intensity I’d never experienced before or since.
“I’m sorry, Emma,” I said, forcing firmness into my tone. I straightened my jacket, creating physical and emotional
distance between us. “My mother is still waiting for me to bring Aria to meet her.”
At Aria’s name, something flashed in Emma’s eyes. Her expression liquefied into practiced vulnerability, the corners of her
mouth softening as she leaned forward with deliberate slowness.
“That was my first time, you know,” she murmured, tilting her head to expose the pale column of her throat. Her perfume —too sweet, too deliberate—wafted between us as she pressed herself closer, her fingers trailing up my forearm. Her
breath caressed my neck, warm and moist, as her lips hovered mere inches from my skin. “You were my first, Ethan.” Her
voice dripped like honey laced with something artificial.
The words hung between us like shackles disguised as silk ribbons, a reminder of an obligation she clearly had no
intention of letting me forget.
My stomach twisted as I remembered the bloodstained sheets from that night. The evidence of innocence taken had
haunted me for years. A complex mixture of guilt and pity washed over me. Felix growled low in my consciousness,
restless and unsatisfied with Emma’s presence despite the history we supposedly shared. As Shadow Fang’s heir, I had
responsibilities—duties to honor my word and atone for my mistakes.
“We’ll talk when you’re feeling better,” I finally said, stepping back to create more distance. The hospital’s antiseptic smell
seemed to intensify around us. “This isn’t the right time or place.”
My phone’s sharp ring cut through the tension. My mother’s name flashed on the screen, and I answered immediately,
grateful for the interruption.
“Ethan,” her voice carried the unmistakable edge of displeasure that had made pack members tremble since my
childhood. “I have been waiting for half an hour. Where exactly are you and Aria?”
I silently cursed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I apologize, Mother. I was… delayed.” I glanced at Emma, who was watching my conversation with undisguised interest. “Aria may need to reschedule for tomorrow. I’ll be back shortly.”
“See that you are,” she replied crisply before ending the call.
I turned back to Emma, who had already adjusted her expression to one of resigned disappointment. “My beta will stay
with you until you’re discharged. I have to go.”
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Aria’s POV
I finally managed to flag down a taxi and hurried back to the training facility. Between last night’s ordeal with Lucas at the
Storm Pack heir’s place and Emma’s theatrical performance today, exhaustion weighed on me like a physical burden. Any
enthusiasm I might have had for meeting Ethan’s mother had completely evaporated.
The training facility was mercifully quiet as I made my way to my office. I’d barely settled into my chair when my phone
rang. Ethan’s name lit up the screen, sending an unwelcome flutter through my chest. I hesitated before answering,
hating my body’s involuntary response to him.
“Aria,” his deep voice came through, carrying an emotion I couldn’t quite identify. “About today’s meeting with my mother, I must apologize. Could we reschedule for tomorrow?”
Relief washed through me like cool water, but right behind it came an unexpected wave of disappointment and a sharp
stab of anger that caught me off guard. What was wrong with me?
“Of course, no problem,” I replied, my fingers tightening around the phone as I struggled to sound casual.
“Tomorrow at three, then,” he said.
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The pause that followed stretched between us like a taut wire, vibrating with unspoken words. I found myself holding my
breath.
“And…” His voice dropped lower, that rich timbre sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. “I’d like to invite you and
Lucas to dinner afterward. Just as a thank you for your work at the training camp.”
My traitorous heart skipped, then raced ahead like a runaway horse. The memory of Emma collapsing dramatically into
his arms slapped me back to reality. Her perfectly placed dirt smudges. Her theatrical sobs.
“Thank you for the invitation,” I said, ice creeping into my voice despite my attempt to sound merely polite. “But Lucas
has homework, and I—”
I caught myself before saying something revealing.
“—we’re not comfortable dining out.” I swallowed hard, then added with deliberate sharpness, “And please don’t trouble
yourself coming to pick me up. I can get there on my own. Take care of your girlfriend.”
The silence that followed felt so heavy I could almost touch it. I pictured his face—those expressive eyebrows pulling
together, his strong jaw clenching just slightly, the way his nostrils would flare when he was controlling his temper.
“Very well,” he finally responded, his voice cooling to that formal alpha tone that erected walls between us more
effectively than any physical barrier. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”