Chapter 18: Chapter 18 I had it made for you
Aria’s POV
Through the peephole, I saw Damian standing in the hallway, still wearing that perfectly tailored black suit that somehow made him look both civilized and dangerously predatory.
My heart did an embarrassing little flip.
I’d assumed he’d already left for New York. What was he still doing here?
I opened the door, trying to ignore how my pulse quickened. "Damian? I thought you’d be halfway to New York by now."
His lips curved into the faintest smile. "Not yet."
"May I come in?" His voice was low, that slight edge of command softened by something gentler.
"Oh." I stepped back automatically. "Come in."
He moved past me, and I caught that scent again—cedar and lavender, sharp and intoxicating. It made my pulse quicken in ways I didn’t want to examine too closely.
"I came to say goodbye," Damian said, turning to face me. Those dark gray eyes held mine with an intensity that made my skin prickle. "And to give you something."
My heart did a strange little flip. "Give me something?"
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small black velvet box.
Oh god. My mind went completely blank. That looked like—no, it couldn’t be—
"Open it," he said quietly.
My hands trembled slightly as I took the box. The velvet was soft under my fingertips. I flipped it open.
Inside was a ring.
Not a diamond engagement ring like my panicked brain had half-expected, but something far more striking.
The band was platinum, elegantly simple, but the face bore an intricate design—a wolf’s head rendered in such fine detail it almost seemed alive.
The wolf’s eyes were set with tiny black diamonds that caught the light.
"It’s beautiful," I whispered.
"It’s the Blackwood Pack emblem," Damian said. His voice had dropped lower, more intimate. "I had it made for you."
I looked up at him, confused. "Why?"
He stepped closer. Close enough that I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze.
"Because you’re human, Aria. In our world, that makes you vulnerable." His hand came up, fingers brushing my jawline with unexpected gentleness.
"When other wolves see this emblem, they’ll know you’re under my protection. They’ll know you’re mine."
Mine.
That word sent heat spiraling through my body. It had been so long since anyone had touched me like this—with desire, with possession.
Two years of a cold marriage bed had left me starving for contact, and now every brush of his fingers felt like lightning on my skin.
"And there’s more," he continued. His thumb traced the line of my cheek, and I had to fight not to lean into his touch. "The stone in the center—press it."
I looked down at the ring again, struggling to focus. There was a larger stone set in the wolf’s chest, a deep black opal that shimmered with hidden colors.
"Go ahead," Damian murmured.
I pressed it gently. Nothing seemed to happen.
"It’s a tracker," he explained. "If you’re ever in danger, press that stone and hold it for three seconds. I’ll know exactly where you are. And I’ll come for you."
Something squeezed tight in my chest.
"You made this for me?" My voice came out softer than I intended.
"I had it commissioned the day after the gala." His thumb traced the edge of the ring, then slid across my palm, sending shivers up my arm.
"You’re human, Aria. You’re too fragile in our world. I know what it’s like to navigate a world where everyone sees you as prey. You shouldn’t have to face that alone."
Something cracked open in my chest.
After years of being told I was nothing, worth nothing, deserved nothing—here was the most powerful wolf in North America offering me protection simply because he thought I needed it.
I should have stepped back. Should have put distance between us. But my body refused to cooperate.
"When do you leave?" I asked instead, my voice coming out breathier than I intended.
"Tomorrow morning. Early flight."
"I could drive you to the airport," I offered before I could think better of it.
Something shifted in his expression—surprise, pleasure, possessiveness all tangled together.
"I’d like that very much," he said softly.
Then his gaze fell on the scattered papers across my coffee table. "What are you working on?"
"Board meeting next week. Vincent’s company."
He moved to the couch, sitting close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him.
My body was hyperaware of every inch between us—or lack thereof. It had been months since Ethan had touched me with anything resembling desire.
Months of sleeping alone in that cold bed, feeling unwanted and undesirable. Now my skin felt too tight, too sensitive, aching for contact.
For the next hour, Damian walked me through strategies—how to read the room, when to speak, when silence held more power.
"That’s brilliant," I said, genuinely impressed by his tactical mind.
"That’s survival in a room full of predators." His mouth quirked. "And boardrooms are just another kind of hunting ground."
I laughed, and something eased in my chest. "Is that how you see all business dealings? As a hunt?"
"Isn’t it?" He shifted slightly closer, and I was suddenly hyperaware of every point where we were almost touching.
"You assess your opponents. You watch for weaknesses. You wait for the right moment to strike. The only difference is the weapons are words instead of claws."
"Do you see me as prey or predator in this scenario?"
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