Aria’s POV
I was in the ballroom, seating by the piano, playing a beautiful tune, when a sudden, sharp bang echoed from a distance.
My wolf lifted her head inside , her ears pricked.
I remained where I sat, perfectly still by the grand piano.
Few minutes later, Rowland entered the ballroom his scent slicing through the air. His aura was unmistakably tense as though he was searching for soone. I knew it had to be .
My wolf watched him with mild curiosity.
He scanned the room, turning in circles, until finally, I spoke.
“Looking for ?”
He spun around so fast I almost laughed.
His eyes locked on before drinking in.
His heartbeat jumped. I could hear it.
A steady thud-thud-thud, too loud for a man trying to appear composed.
Then he said...
“Aria, marry .”
The piano jolted beneath my fingers, the keys giving a harsh tallic clang.
I stared at him. My mind blanked.
Even my wolf fell silent.
Was he—
Is he insane?
My voice dropped, cool as winter rain. “Do you know what you’re saying?”
But Rowland only stepped closer, determination burning in his eyes.
“Of course,” he said, without wavering.
Then he reached for my hand.
My wolf snarled, instinctively drawing my hand back. But the mont his skin brushed mine, I felt a spark.
Not romantic spark, not mating spark, it was one that triggered mories.
Images slamd into with the force of a shifting moon.
I could see forest, a fire, flas clawing at the night sky, the scent of burning wood and wolf fur.
And a boy...no, a young wolf...cradling a girl.
“Aria, wake up!” he cried, his voice trembling despite his effort to stay strong.
“Rowland...” the girl whispered.
My chest tightened, my breathing slowed.
The mory felt like it was being dragged from the marrow of my bones.
He leaned over her, soot smudging his cheeks, his wolf aura trembling with fear.
“Aria, don’t be scared. Help is coming. I called for an ambulance. Just stay with .”
The girl who looked like the younger shook her head weakly and Rowland, with a trembling growl of determination, said:
“You’ll be okay. Once you’re safe, I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t leave .”
His words... fell into her heart like icy rain.
Like a promise carried through lifetis.
The images flashed again and again until the ballroom blurred back into existence.
I snapped back to reality, my breath sharp.
Rowland stood in front of , his eyes full of worry... the sa eyes from the burning forest. He was the sa boy, the sa wolf.
My wolf’s heartbeat thundered.
So it was him, the past I could never rember—until now.
My eyes widened for a mont before I quickly forced my expression back into stillness.
“No wonder,” I thought. “No wonder he recognized right away, even when I didn’t.”
Because we weren’t strangers, we have a past.
The fragnted mories still pulsed behind my eyes, raw, smoky, and far too real.
My wolf paced restlessly inside , as if she recognized the scenes more intimately than I did.
That girl was , her trembling voice, the flas, the boy holding her, holding .
And then that final image...his silhouette collapsing into grief as I ignored him, leaving him heartbroken.
I felt a pang in my chest and stepped back, needing distance, needing control.
“Rowland.” His na ca out like a reprimand, edged with warning.
But instead of recoiling, sothing flickered in his eyes, a wild thrill, the kind only a young wolf experiences when danger tastes like possibility.
My gaze hardened, my wolf’s dominance rising instinctively.
“As long as I’m still married to Nathan,” I said evenly, “I am your elder.”
The words hit him like claws to the heart.
His scent soured with hurt.
Silence wrapped around us like a heavy fog.
Rowland looked at with the eyes of a wolf searching for warmth in a blizzard. But I had none to give him.
“Aria...” he murmured, voice cracking.
I bit my lip to steady myself, to steady my wolf.
Then I turned away.
“Don’t pursue anymore.”
Shock rippled through him. “P-pursue?”
“Yes,” I said coolly. “As Nathan’s nephew, you surely already know about my past feelings for him. Why would you think I’d throw away propriety... for you?”
His breath caught.
The pain in his scent deepened, twisting.
Still, he tried to fight it.
“You said you wanted a divorce,” he insisted. “You said Uncle Nathan hurt you. And I just saw him with Sophia—”
I cut him off, eting his eyes with the full coldness of my wolf.
“Rowland... love can turn to hate.”
Those words gutted him.
He froze, staring at as if I’d beco a stranger.
Before he could say anything more, a sudden commotion rippled from the doors outside. Instinctively, my wolf lifted her head, ears pricking.
Rowland hesitated, torn, but duty pulled him away. He shot one last, unreadable look before stepping away.
The doors swung open and gasps erupted through the hall.
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