(Aria's POV)
Dawn comes too fast.
I barely sleep.
Every time I close my eyes, I see Liam's face as he said, I reject you, like he was spitting something bitter out of his mouth.
By the time the first pale light seeps through my tiny window, my bag is packed.
There isn't much to pack.
A few clothes. Two old books my mother loved. A cracked photo frame with the three of us before the rogue attack took them. A small, smooth stone my father once told me was lucky.
Apparently it's been on break.
I zip the bag up and take one last look at the room.
The thin mattress. The peeling paint. The small, grimy window.
I used to dream of leaving this place as a victorious warrior, promoted to the Alpha House, my room replaced with something big and sunlit.
Now I'm leaving because they threw me out.
"Time," a voice calls from the corridor. Flat. Impersonal.
Not even a knock.
I open the door.
Two warriors wait outside. Both in casual clothes, but their posture is all business. One of them—Jace—won't quite meet my eyes.
"The Alpha said to escort you to the border," he says.
"Escort," I repeat. "Such a nice word for exile."
His jaw tightens.
The other warrior, Milo, shrugs, clearly less bothered. "Could be worse. You could be leaving in a body bag."
"Wow," I say. "I feel so much better now."
Milo grins like he's done me a favor.
Jace steps forward. "We're to make sure you don't cause… trouble."
"I've never caused trouble in my life," I say. "That's half the problem."
I sling my bag over my shoulder and walk past them.
No one stops me.
No one says goodbye.
In the kitchen, omegas are already cleaning up from last night's feast. A few glance up as I pass. One offers a flicker of sympathy. Most look away quickly, like my bad luck might be contagious.
At the main hall, the doors are still closed. I can smell stale alcohol, perfume, and the sour tang of old humiliation under the wood.
I keep walking.
Outside, the morning air is cool and damp, mist curling low over the trees. Birds chatter as if nothing earth-shattering happened last night.
We head down the path that leads away from the pack house, past the training grounds.
I pause for half a second, staring at the empty field.
This is where I tried, again and again, to summon a wolf that refused to answer.
Where I was laughed at. Taunted. Pushed down.
Where I felt a presence last night, angry and huge, slamming against a door that wouldn't break.
My chest tightens.
"Keep moving," Milo says. "We're not here for a memory tour."
I don't give him the satisfaction of a glare.
I keep moving.
The forest shifts as we walk. The well-worn paths give way to quieter trails, less used. The trees grow thicker, older. The air smells sharper, like pine and distance.
"The Alpha is being generous, you know," Milo comments. "Most packs wouldn't bother with an escort for a rejected wolfless. They'd just toss you out of the gate and lock it."
"Is that your way of saying I should be grateful?" I ask.
He shrugs. "Just telling the truth."
Jace shoots him a look. "Enough."
We fall into silence.
The border isn't a visible line in the dirt, but every wolf knows where it is. The trees thin out ahead, giving way to a narrow road that leads towards the human town.
My heart starts pounding as we approach.
This is it.
Once I cross, I'm not Nightfall anymore.
No pack link. No territory. No home, even if it was never much of one.
"Here," Jace says quietly when we reach the last line of trees. "This is far enough."
I stop.
The road stretches ahead, empty and grey, cutting through the mist like a scar.
"So," I say. "Do I get a farewell speech? A plaque? A 'thanks for being such a convenient punching bag all these years' medal?"
Milo snorts.
Jace winces. "Aria…"
"Save it," I cut in.
If he says something that sounds like pity, I might actually cry.
I refuse to give this place my tears.
"Any instructions for your ex-mate?" I ask instead, voice sweet. "Want me to tell Liam anything if I ever see him again? 'Thanks for the public character assassination' maybe?"
Milo shifts uncomfortably. "Watch it."
"Why?" I ask. "What's he going to do? Reject me twice?"
Jace scrubs a hand over his face. "Look, it's done. You just need to… move on. Build a life somewhere else."
"Right," I say. "I'll just pop into town and pick up a nice little 'Life Starter Pack'—job, house, fully functioning wolf, maybe a mate who doesn't hate my existence."
Milo mutters something under his breath about me being dramatic.
I ignore him.
Instead, I take a step forward.
The air tingles as I cross the invisible line that marks the border.
There's no physical barrier. No fence. No wall.
Just a sudden, sharp sense of… absence.
Like walking out of a warm room into a cold one.
The background hum I never really noticed before goes quiet.
No faint distant awareness of other wolves. No soft buzz of pack energy in the back of my mind.
Silence.
I swallow.
This is what alone feels like.
"By order of Alpha Blackwood," Jace says formally behind me, "you are no longer a member of Nightfall Pack. You are barred from this territory unless expressly invited by the Alpha."
I turn.
The two warriors stand just inside the border, the forest behind them.
Home.
Past tense.
Something hurts in my chest, sharp and sudden.
"Got it," I say.
We stare at each other for a moment.
Jace opens his mouth like he wants to say something else.
Then he shuts it.
"Take care of yourself, Aria," he says finally.
Milo gives me a half-hearted salute. "Try not to get eaten by rogues."
"Try not to trip over your ego," I shoot back automatically.
He smirks.
They turn and disappear into the trees, swallowed up by the shadows.
I stand on the road, alone, listening as their footsteps fade.
That's it.
Years of my life, wiped out in under ten minutes.
I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.
The human town is a few miles away. I could walk there, find some cheap room, pick up odd jobs. Humans won't care that I have no wolf. They'll just think I'm another broke girl with bad luck.
It would be simple.
Boring.
Safe.
I take one step forward.
Headlights wash over me.
I freeze.
A low purr of an engine grows louder, cutting through the morning quiet. A sleek black car emerges from the mist, gliding down the road like some kind of predator cloaked in polished metal.
It slows as it nears me.
My heart trips over itself.
Maybe it's a random human on their way to work.
Maybe it's somebody lost.
Maybe this is how horror stories start.
The car stops a few meters away.
For a second, nothing happens.
Then the back door swings open, smooth and silent.
A man steps out.
I recognize him from pack rumors before my brain even catches up with my eyes.
Tall. Broad shoulders wrapped in a dark, perfectly cut suit that doesn't belong this close to the forest. Black hair a little too long, like he doesn't care enough to keep it as neat as his younger brother's. Sharp jaw. Mouth set in a hard line.
Eyes like winter.
Damien Blackwood.
Liam's older brother.
The one who left the pack years ago, choosing the human world and its money over wolf politics.
The one Liam never talks about.
The one I've only seen once, from a distance, when I was fourteen and hiding in a crowd as he argued with the Alpha outside the pack house, his voice low and lethal.
Now he's standing on the road in front of me, hands in his pockets, looking at me like he just found something interesting on the side of the road.
The scent that hits me is familiar and not.
Blackwood.
But colder. Sharper. Edged with city and power and something electric.
My battered, still-aching heart stutters for a completely different reason.
"Aria Hale," he says.
His voice is deep, smooth, carrying easily in the morning air.
He doesn't ask if that's my name.
He already knows.
My fingers tighten on the strap of my bag.
"Damien," I say before I can stop myself.
Because what do you call a man like this? Mr Blackwood sounds too small. Sir would kill me on the spot.
One dark brow lifts. "We're on first-name terms already?"
Heat crawls up my neck.
"I—sorry. I mean—why are you here?"
"Straight to the point." He nods slightly. "Good. Saves us both time."
He glances past me, eyes skimming the tree line, the invisible border.
"Your escort left you," he observes. "Efficient."
"I think 'dumped' is the word you're looking for."
His gaze returns to me.
Up close, there's something… dangerous about him. Not in the raw, bright way Liam's power feels. Liam is a bonfire everyone is drawn to.
Damien is a black hole.
Quiet.
Deadly.
"You were banished," he says. Not a question.
"News travels fast," I mutter.
"Some decisions echo," he replies. "Especially when they're made loudly in a room full of people who can't keep secrets."
I flinch.
He saw.
Or at least, he heard.
Of course he did.
A rejected mate is gossip crack.
"So?" I fold my arms, even though I'm pretty sure he could snap me like a twig without breaking a sweat. "Are you here to join the laughter? Get a good look at the pathetic wolfless reject before you head back to your skyscrapers?"
One corner of his mouth twitches, almost like he's amused.
"Do you always greet strangers this politely?" he asks.
"You're not a stranger," I say before my brain can throw up a stop sign. "You're the Blackwood who left."
Silence stretches.
A bird chirps somewhere in the trees, oblivious.
"That's one way to describe it," he says finally. "Another is: the Blackwood who didn't want to rot under someone else's thumb."
His gaze sharpens.
"For what it's worth," he adds, "I don't find your humiliation particularly entertaining."
"Wow," I say. "What a relief. I was so worried about your opinion."
His eyes narrow the tiniest bit.
Not angry.
Interested.
Like I'm a problem he's trying to solve in his head.
"Get in the car, Aria," he says.
I blink.
"What?"
He gestures lazily to the open door. The interior glints with black leather and the faint promise of warmth.
"It's cold," he says. "You're shaking. You have nowhere to go. Get in the car."
My spine stiffens.
"My exile, my problem," I say. "I don't need a ride from a man whose brother just set me on fire in public."
His jaw ticks at the mention of Liam, a tiny, almost imperceptible motion.
"Liam is many things," he says. "Subtle is not one of them."
"That's one way to say 'massive jerk.'"
The ghost of a smile brushes his lips and vanishes.
"I'm not here on his behalf," Damien says.
"Then why are you here?" I demand. "Did you just happen to be driving by the exact border I was dumped at, at the exact time I was dumped, in the exact terrifying luxury car I would least expect to see next to a pine tree?"
His eyes glint.
"No," he says. "I rarely 'happen' anywhere."
He takes a step closer.
He doesn't touch me, but his presence hits like a wave.
My wolf—distant, locked, sulking—suddenly stirs.
Not like with Liam.
That was an explosion. A wild, overwhelming pull.
This is different.
A low, curious rumble, like a massive creature turning its head in the dark.
What is that?
Who is that?
Mine?
Not mine?
Confused.
Same, girl.
Same.
Damien's gaze flickers, like he's sensing something too.
Interesting.
He leans in just enough that only I can hear the next words.
"I'm here," he says softly, "because my brother is an idiot."
I blink.
"That's… not exactly breaking news."
"And because," he continues, as if I didn't speak, "the pack just dumped something very valuable at the edge of its territory."
My laugh comes out brittle. "Me? Valuable? Did you hit your head on the way here?"
"Not to them," he says. "To me."
The words land with more force than they should.
I suddenly feel very aware of my wrinkled clothes, my puffy eyes, the faint tremble in my hands.
"What do you want?" I ask, voice low.
He straightens, the warmth from a second ago gone, replaced by cool detachment.
"A mutually beneficial arrangement," he says. "You need somewhere to stay, money, protection from any rogues or… petty pack revenge. I need…"
He pauses.
For a moment, something flickers across his face—something sharp and hungry and old.
Then it's gone.
"I need someone your brother underestimated," he finishes calmly. "Someone with a reason to hate him as much as I do."
A shiver slides down my spine.
He's offering me safety.
He's also offering me a war.
"Come with me," he says quietly. "I'll give you a home. I'll teach you to defend yourself. And one day, if you still want it…"
His eyes burn into mine.
"I'll help you make them all regret what they did to you."
The forest seems to hold its breath.
The human town is still behind me.
Normal. Small. Probably full of boring jobs and people who don't know what a mate bond is.
In front of me stands a Blackwood with winter in his eyes and a promise of power on his tongue.
Behind me lies a pack that chose to laugh instead of help.
My wolf paces behind the locked door, restless.
Hungry.
Choose.
"I don't trust you," I say.
"Good," Damien replies. "You shouldn't."
He inclines his head toward the car.
"Get in anyway."
I stare at him.
At the trees.
At the empty road.
At my own shaking hands.
Then I square my shoulders, sling my bag higher, and step toward the open door.
"If I end up dead in a ditch," I mutter as I slide into the leather seat, "I'm haunting you."
Damien's mouth curves, the barest hint of a smile.
"We'll try to avoid that," he says.
He closes the door with a soft click.
As the car pulls away from the border, Nightfall Pack disappears in the rearview mirror.
I don't know where I'm going.
I don't know what he really wants.
But I know one thing with bone-deep certainty:
For the first time in my life, I am not walking away from a place that doesn't want me.
I'm driving toward something.
I just don't realize yet that the something is a cold billionaire with a crown he doesn't wear, a kingdom in the shadows… and a claim on my fate that will change everything.