Chapter 7: Chapter 7 An Unexpected Encounter
Aria’s POV
"Sure.Where would you like to meet?" he asked.
"You decide," I replied.
"I’ll send a car for you. Six o’clock."
The line went dead.
I stared at my phone, pulse racing.
Well. If I was going to negotiate a contract marriage with the Alpha King, I might as well look the part.
I spent the afternoon at a salon, getting my hair and makeup done. By the time I finished, it was nearly five, so I stopped by a high-end boutique nearby.
"Wow, you look absolutely stunning in that!" the saleswoman gushed as I stepped out of the dressing room.
"This dress is notoriously hard to pull off, but you look even better than the campaign model!"
I glanced at myself in the mirror.
The dress was soft lavender, floor-length and off-the-shoulder. It fit like it had been made for me, elegant and understated.
Perfect for a business dinner.
Not that this was anything more than business.
"I’ll take it," I said, smiling at my reflection.
It had been two years since I’d dressed up like this. Two years since I’d looked at myself and seen anything other than exhaustion.
I’d forgotten how good it felt.
When I went to pay, the cashier informed me that someone had already settled the bill over the phone. They’d also purchased a matching handbag, a set of jewelry, and a pair of heels to go with the dress.
"Did they leave a name?"
"Yes. They said their last name was Blackwood."
I froze.
Damian.
I glanced around the store, half-expecting to see him watching from somewhere, but there was no one.
Heat crept into my cheeks. When was the last time anyone had bought me anything without strings attached?
Ethan certainly never had. Every gift came with conditions. Expectations.
But Damian—
I shook my head. Don’t read into it. He probably does this for every woman he meets.
Still. It was... thoughtful.
When I stepped outside, a sleek black car was waiting at the curb.
The same one from the Crescent Moon estate—no visible branding, but an unmistakable aura of wealth and power.
The driver got out and opened the rear door.
"Miss Smith. Alpha Blackwood is waiting for you. Please."
I hesitated for only a moment before stepping forward.
And then I saw him.
Damian Blackwood sat in the far corner of the backseat, one arm draped casually along the leather. He’d changed since yesterday—no longer the commanding, dangerous Alpha in a tailored suit.
Tonight, he wore a charcoal gray sweater that clung to his broad shoulders, dark jeans that somehow looked expensive, and a watch that probably cost more than my college tuition.
He looked... relaxed. Approachable. Like someone you might meet at a coffee shop instead of the ruler of the entire werewolf kingdom.
But the relaxed clothes couldn’t hide what he was.
The commanding presence, the way he carried himself with absolute authority—those piercing gray eyes that seemed to see straight through everything.
Even dressed down, power radiated from him like heat.
This was the Alpha King, and no amount of casual clothing could diminish that.
He watched me slide into the car, his gaze traveling slowly from my face down to the hem of my dress and back up again.
Not leering. Just... appreciating.
"You look beautiful, Aria," he said quietly.
My breath caught.
Ethan had never complimented me. Not once in two years. I’d told myself it wasn’t his way, that he showed affection differently.
But Damian’s simple compliment made me understand how starved I’d been for genuine appreciation.
Dangerous.
"Thank you," I managed, my fingers brushing against the soft fabric of the dress. "And thank you for the dress. And everything else. You didn’t have to—"
"I wanted to." He smiled, and it transformed his entire face. Softer. Almost boyish. "Just a small gesture. Nothing much. If you like it, I’ll get you more."
I felt heat creeping up my neck. No one had ever said things like that to me so casually, like spoiling me was the most natural thing in the world.
"That’s not necessary. "
"That’s necessary." His eyes held mine. "I just take care of what’s mine."
"I’m not yours."
"Not yet." The corner of his mouth lifted. "But you will be, Aria. In every way that matters."
The certainty in his voice should have irritated me. Instead, it sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with fear.
I looked away, focusing on the city lights streaming past the window. "So. You’ve thought about my proposal?"
"I have." He leaned forward slightly, closing the distance between us. "And I’m willing to agree. With conditions."
My pulse quickened. "What kind of conditions?"
His smile widened. "Let’s discuss it over dinner first. I find negotiations go much smoother on a full stomach."
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. And for the first time in days, it felt real.
"You know," he said, his voice dropping lower, "that’s the first time I’ve heard you laugh."
"Is it?"
"Yes. You should do it more often." His gaze traveled over my face. "It suits you."
I didn’t know how to respond to that. The way he looked at me—like I was something precious, something worth his undivided attention—was completely foreign.
Ethan had never looked at me like that. Not even in the beginning.
The car turned onto a tree-lined street, and I noticed we were heading away from the city center. Fewer buildings. More privacy.
"Where exactly are we going?" I asked.
"You’ll see."
Before I could press him further, the driver took a sharp turn onto a winding driveway. The sudden shift in momentum sent me lurching sideways—directly into Damian’s lap.
My face pressed against his thigh. No, not his thigh.
Oh God.
I could feel the hard ridge of him through his slacks, hot and unmistakable against my cheek.
For one frozen heartbeat, neither of us moved.
Then his hand slid into my hair, fingers tangling in the strands. Not pulling me away. Holding me there.
"Fuck," he breathed, and I felt the word vibrate through his body. "Aria—"
I scrambled back, my face burning. "I’m sorry, I didn’t—the turn—"
"It’s fine." His voice was rough, strained.
When I finally dared to look at him, his eyes had darkened to almost black, pupils blown wide. His jaw was clenched tight, and there was a very visible bulge straining against his slacks now.
The air in the car felt suffocating.
"I should have warned you," he said after a moment, his voice carefully controlled again. "The driveway has a sharp curve."
"Right. Yes. The driveway." I was babbling. I never babbled.
His lips twitched. "You okay?"
"Fine. Completely fine."
I was absolutely not fine. I could still feel the heat of him, the solid weight.
And worse—some traitorous part of me wanted to lean back in, to see what would happen if I pressed my lips to—
No. Stop it.
This was a business arrangement. That’s all it was.
But when I glanced at him again, the hunger in his eyes made it very clear he was thinking about anything but business.
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