Chapter 35: Chapter 35 I had a plan
Damian’s POV
I stared at my phone for the hundredth time that day, jaw clenched so tight it ached.
Still nothing from her.
Five days. Five goddamn days since I’d left for the border, and Aria hadn’t sent a single text. Not one "travel safe" or "how’s it going" or even a basic "hey."
Nothing.
My fingers tightened around the phone until the screen protested with a faint crack.
*"Just sex. No big deal."*
Her words from that night kept replaying in my head like a broken record. The casual way she’d said it. The dismissive shrug. Like what happened between us meant nothing more than scratching an itch.
Was that really all it was to her? Did she treat everyone like that—let them into her bed, into her body, then act like it didn’t matter the next day?
The thought made my blood boil.
My wolf snarled in the back of my mind. *She’s ours. She wouldn’t—*
*Wouldn’t she?* I shot back. *She hasn’t even bothered to check if we made it here alive.*
I’d been trying so damn hard not to contact her first. Trying to give her space, to not come across as some obsessive bastard who couldn’t go a few days without hearing from his mate.
I had Pack business to handle—serious business. Border disputes didn’t solve themselves.
But I’d expected... something. Some sign that she was thinking about me. That what we shared mattered to her even a fraction of how much it mattered to me.
Instead? Radio silence.
"Fuck this," I muttered, shoving my phone into my pocket.
Rick glanced up from the map spread across the war room table. "Everything alright, Alpha?"
"Fine," I bit out.
His eyebrow raised slightly—the Beta version of calling bullshit—but he was smart enough not to push. "The patrol reports just came in. North sector is clear, but—"
"Handle it," I interrupted, already heading for the door. "I need some air."
I didn’t wait for his response.
---
The forest welcomed me like an old friend—dark, quiet, and blessedly free of judgment.
I stripped quickly, barely registering the bite of cold air against my skin before I shifted. Bones cracked and reformed, muscle stretched and compressed, and then I was on four legs instead of two.
My wolf form was larger than most—black fur with silver undertones, built for power rather than speed. I’d always preferred it this way. In wolf form, things were simpler. Clearer.
I took off running.
The ground blurred beneath my paws as I pushed harder, faster, letting the burn in my muscles drown out everything else.
Trees whipped past in dark streaks. The scent of pine and damp earth filled my lungs.
But even this couldn’t quiet my mind.
*She doesn’t care,* I thought bitterly. *We’re nothing to her. Just another fuck.*
*That’s not true,* my wolf growled. *I felt the bond. You felt it too. She’s ours.*
*Then why hasn’t she called?*
*Because you haven’t called her either, you stubborn idiot.*
I stumbled slightly, caught off guard by my own wolf’s bluntness.
*That’s different,* I argued. *I’m giving her space. Respecting her boundaries.*
*Bullshit,* my wolf snapped. *You’re sulking because she hurt your ego.*
I snarled, the sound echoing through the empty forest.
*My ego has nothing to do with this.*
*Doesn’t it?* My wolf’s tone was almost mocking now. *She’s the first woman who didn’t fall at your feet. The first one who didn’t treat you like some prize to be won. And you can’t handle it.*
I wanted to deny it. Wanted to say my wolf was wrong.
But I couldn’t.
Because he was right.
I’d spent decades being the Alpha King—feared, respected, desired.
Women threw themselves at me constantly, and I’d never been interested. Not once. Because none of them were *her*. None of them were my mate.
And then I found Aria.
Beautiful, fierce, complicated Aria. Who looked at me like I was just a man, not a king. Who pushed back when I pushed. Who made me work for every scrap of her attention.
And I was completely, utterly gone for her.
Which was exactly why it killed me that she could be so casual about us. So unbothered.
*Maybe she’s scared,* my wolf suggested quietly.
I slowed to a stop, panting slightly, ears flicking back.
*What?*
*Maybe she’s scared,* he repeated. *Think about it. She just escaped one bond. A fake one, sure, but she spent two years believing Ethan was her mate. Believing he loved her. And he destroyed her.*
My hackles raised at the mention of that bastard’s name.
*Now she has us,* my wolf continued. *A real bond. A real mate. And we’re the Alpha King—more powerful, more dangerous, more everything than Ethan could ever be. Of course she’s scared.*
I hadn’t thought of it that way.
Hadn’t considered that maybe her casual dismissal wasn’t about not caring. Maybe it was about caring too much. About protecting herself.
*You left,* my wolf said simply. *Right after sleeping with her for the first time. Right after she finally let you in. And you didn’t call. Didn’t text. Gave her nothing.*
Guilt twisted in my gut.
*I was trying to give her space.*
*Or maybe you were scared too.*
I wanted to deny it again. But I couldn’t.
Because he was right about that too.
I was scared. Terrified, actually. Of how much I wanted her.
Of how completely she’d gotten under my skin in such a short time. Of how badly I needed her to want me back with the same desperate intensity.
And when she’d acted so casual that morning, it had felt like rejection. Like confirmation that I was alone in this bond—feeling everything while she felt nothing.
But what if I was wrong?
She hadn’t asked for space explicitly. She’d just... built walls. Shut down. Reduced our night together to something casual and meaningless.
But wasn’t that exactly the kind of defense mechanism someone used when they were terrified of getting hurt again?
"What am I supposed to do?" I asked, the question somewhere between human speech and wolf-sound. "Force her to acknowledge the bond? Push her when she’s clearly not ready?"
*Talk to her. Actually talk. Not this silent standoff you’ve both been maintaining.*
I shifted back to human form, standing naked in the clearing, skin steaming in the cold air. My wolf was right. I knew he was right.
"Goddammit," I breathed.
*Call her,* my wolf urged. *Now. Before you talk yourself out of it again.*
He was right. I needed to stop overthinking this.
I grabbed my shirt and pants, pulling them on as I turned back toward the safe house, determination settling over me like armor.
Screw space. Screw playing it cool. Screw letting her defensive walls keep me out.
Tomorrow, I’d call her. And this time, I wouldn’t let her brush me off with casual dismissals and practiced indifference.
This time, we were having a real conversation.
Whether she liked it or not.
*Finally,* my wolf huffed. *Some sense.*
"Shut up," I muttered, but there was no heat in it.
Because for the first time in five days, I felt like I could breathe again.
I had a plan. A purpose.
And if Aria Smith thought she could keep me at arm’s length with a few cold words, she was about to learn exactly how persistent an Alpha King could be when it came to claiming his mate.
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