Chapter 13: Chapter 13 He always comes back to me
Aria’s POV
The ballroom was breathtaking—crystal chandeliers, polished marble floors, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the gardens.
Alphas and their mates mingled in clusters, drinks in hand, their conversations humming with barely concealed ambition.
Every head turned as we entered.
Whispers rippled through the crowd.
"Is that her? Vincent Smith’s daughter?"
"I heard she was human—"
"But she’s with the Alpha King—"
"Didn’t she used to be with Ethan Holt?"
My stomach tightened at the sound of his name, but I forced myself to keep walking.
Victor was waiting just inside the grand ballroom, dressed in a sharp gray suit. He smiled when he saw me, though his gaze flicked briefly to Damian with something that looked like approval.
"Aria. You look stunning." He kissed my cheek, then extended a hand to Damian. "Your Majesty."
"Victor." Damian’s tone was polite but distant.
Victor’s smile didn’t falter. "Shall we make the introductions?"
I nodded, and he led us into the ballroom.
The space was massive—high ceilings, crystal chandeliers, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the gardens. Hundreds of guests milled about, champagne glasses in hand.
Victor guided us to a raised platform at the far end of the room, where a microphone stood waiting.
My pulse spiked.
"Ready?" Victor asked.
I glanced at Damian. He gave me a small nod.
"Ready."
Victor stepped up to the microphone, and the room gradually fell silent.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he began. "Thank you all for joining us tonight. We’re here to announce something significant."
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
"Vincent Smith was a visionary. A businessman who built bridges between our world and the human one. And though he’s no longer with us, his legacy lives on—through his daughter."
Victor turned to me, extending his hand.
I took a deep breath and stepped forward.
The room was silent now, every eye locked on me.
"This is Aria Smith," Victor continued. "Vincent’s only child, and the rightful heir to his estate. Tonight, we formally welcome her into the Crescent Moon Pack, and into the wider network of alliances her father spent decades building."
Applause erupted, though I could see the skepticism in many faces.
I took the microphone from Victor, my hand trembling slightly.
"Thank you," I said, my voice steadier than I expected. "I know many of you are wondering who I am. Where I came from. Whether I’m capable of carrying my father’s legacy."
I paused, letting the words hang in the air.
"I don’t have a wolf. I wasn’t raised in a pack. But I was raised to survive. To adapt. To build something from nothing." I met the eyes of several alphas in the crowd.
"My father believed in partnerships. In mutual benefit. And so do I. I’m not here to take anything from anyone. I’m here to honor what he built—and to make it stronger."
The applause was louder this time.
I stepped back, and Damian’s hand found mine immediately.
"Well done," he murmured.
Victor reclaimed the microphone. "Now, please—enjoy the evening."
The crowd dispersed, conversations resuming. The string quartet began to play again—a slow, sultry waltz.
Damian’s hand slid to the small of my back.
"Dance with me," he said. It wasn’t a question.
"Here?" I glanced around the room. Every eye still lingering. Every whisper waiting to start again.
His lips curved into a slow smile. "Right here. Let them all watch."
Before I could argue, he led me onto the dance floor, his hand pressing firmly into the curve of my spine.
The crowd parted like water, and suddenly we were the center of the room—the single point every gaze locked onto.
His hand settled on my waist, the other capturing mine. His thumb traced a slow circle on the inside of my wrist, right where my pulse was hammering.
"Relax," he murmured.
"How can I relax when you’re looking at me like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like you’re undressing me with your eyes."
His smile was slow, dangerous. "That’s because I am."
The music swelled, and he pulled me closer. Not the polite distance of a formal waltz—his thigh slid between mine as we moved, and I felt the heat of him through the thin fabric of my dress.
"Aria," he said, my name rolling off his tongue like a caress. "I’ve been watching you all night. Do you know what I’ve been thinking about?"
"What?"
"That dress." His hand slid lower on my back, fingertips dipping just below the waistline. "And how easy it would be to slip it off your shoulders."
My breath hitched. "Damian—"
"You blush so beautifully," he continued, his lips brushing my ear. "I wonder if you blush like that everywhere. If I traced my mouth down your neck, down your chest—would you turn pink all the way down?"
I stumbled. He caught me effortlessly, pulling me flush against him.
"Careful," he whispered. "I’ve got you."
His hand traveled up my spine, slow and deliberate, each vertebra a secret he was memorizing. When he reached the nape of my neck, he tangled his fingers in my hair and gently tugged my head back.
"Look at me," he said softly.
I did.
His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, hunger barely held in check.
"I want to take you home," he said, his voice low and rough. "I want to lay you down and take my time learning every sound you make. I want to make you forget your own name—and then I want to hear you scream mine."
The room spun around me, but I couldn’t look away.
"Until then," he murmured, his lips hovering just above mine—close enough to taste, far enough to torture—"I’m going to dance with you. And I’m going to make sure every man in this room knows exactly who you’re going home with tonight."
The music slowed. He dipped me low, his body covering mine, his mouth brushing my throat—almost a kiss, but not quite.
"Damian," I breathed.
"I know." He pulled me up slowly, his hand trailing down my arm, leaving fire in its wake. "Just kidding."
The music ended. Applause rippled around us.
I stood there, breathless, my body aching for more.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.
"I need to use the restroom."
His eyes flickered, the grin on his lips deepening. "Don’t keep me waiting too long."
I let go of his hand, slipped through the crowd, and practically fled into the restroom at the end of the hallway.
The moment the door clicked shut behind me, I pressed my back against it, closed my eyes, and tried to calm my racing heart.
Come on. Get it together.
But my body was still burning. His touch was still branded into my skin.
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