Zander’s POV.
The moment the door slammed shut behind me, I felt the weight of Lyra’s words pressing down on me like a heavy fog. They clung to the air, thick and suffocating, refusing to leave me alone. My blood was still boiling, my fists still clenched so tightly that my knuckles were white.
I wanted to punch something, to break something, to let out the storm of frustration that was tearing through me. But none of that mattered right now. None of it would fix what mattered most.
I needed to find Aria. Nothing else could calm me.
The party was still alive with energy. The grand hall was filled with laughter that echoed off the high ceilings, with conversations weaving together into a constant hum, and with the cheerful clinking of glasses. But none of it registered for me. All I could do was scan the room, my eyes darting from one face to another, searching for the dark cascade of Aria’s hair or the poised way she carried herself. I searched every corner, every gathering of people, but she was nowhere in sight.
Worry twisted in my stomach like a knife, sharp and unrelenting.
I moved through the crowd quickly, my shoulders brushing against strangers as I pushed forward. I muttered hurried apologies to Alphas and Lunas who tried to stop me, their polite smiles and meaningless questions about alliances and pack politics falling on deaf ears. They wanted my attention, but I couldn’t give it. My focus was razor-sharp, locked on one thing and one thing only.
Where was Aria? Where had she gone?
As my frustration rose, I spotted one of the servers weaving his way through the crowd with a tray of champagne flutes balanced in his hands. Without thinking, I stepped in front of him, stopping him abruptly. “Have you seen my Luna?” I demanded, my voice sharp and more commanding than I intended. The Alpha tone slipped out even though I tried to keep it in check.
The server blinked at me, startled by my intensity, but he nodded quickly. “Yes, Alpha Zander,” he stammered, his words hurried. “She stepped out onto the balcony a little while ago.”
I didn’t wait for him to say anything else. His answer was all I needed. I turned on my heel and strode toward the grand glass doors that led to the balcony, my heart pounding harder with every step I took. It wasn’t just anger fueling me now-it was fear.
The moment I stepped outside, the cool night air hit me like a sharp slap against my skin. It was crisp and refreshing, a stark contrast to the overwhelming warmth and noise of the crowded hall. The moon hung high above, its silvery light washing over the sprawling estate and casting soft shadows over the balcony. The air was quiet out here, the sounds of the party muffled behind the thick glass doors.
And then I saw her.
Aria stood at the edge of the balcony, her silhouette framed by the moonlight. Her hands rested gently on the cold stone railing, and she was staring out at the vast, moonlit landscape. Her emerald-green dress shimmered faintly under the soft light, and her dark hair cascaded down her back like a river of midnight. From a distance, she looked calm, almost serene, but I knew her too well to be fooled. The slight tension in her posture, the way her shoulders seemed just a little too rigid, told me everything I needed to know.
I approached her slowly, my footsteps careful as I crossed the stone floor. I didn’t know how to start, how to explain everything that had just happened. The sound of my approaching steps must have reached her ears because she turned around to face me. Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, I couldn’t read her expression.
“Zander,” she said softly, her voice even but guarded.
“Aria,” I replied, stopping just a few feet away. I searched her face, hoping to find some clue about what she was feeling. Was she angry? Was she hurt? Was she confused? But her expression gave nothing away. She had locked her emotions behind a wall, and her steady gaze refused to falter.
“What happened?” she asked, her tone direct and cutting straight to the heart of the matter. “Why did you pull her away like that?”
I let out a heavy sigh, dragging a hand through my hair. “I needed to talk to her,” I said, my voice low. “I needed to remind her of her place.”
Her brows furrowed slightly, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Her place?” she repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief. “And what exactly is her place, Zander? Because from where I’m standing, it sure looks like she thinks she still has some kind of claim on you.”
“She doesn’t,” I said quickly, stepping closer. My voice was firm, resolute. “Lyra is nothing to me. Whatever we had-whatever she thinks we had-it’s over. It’s been over for years.”
“Then why does she think she was your ‘true love’?” Aria shot back, her voice rising slightly. “Why would she say something like that to me unless she believed it? Or worse-unless she wanted me to believe it?”
My jaw tightened at her words. Lyra’s voice rang in my head again, her cruel, calculated words slicing through me like a blade. I wanted to tell Aria everything-to explain the truth about Lyra, about her betrayal, about the moment I realized I could never love her again. But the memories felt heavy, like weights dragging me down, and the words caught in my throat.
“She’s trying to get under your skin,” I said instead, softening my tone. “That’s what Lyra does. She manipulates people. She lies. Don’t let her get to you. That’s what she wants.”
Aria’s gaze narrowed, her emerald eyes blazing with intensity. “That doesn’t answer my question, Zander,” she said firmly. “What exactly is she to you?”
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to meet her piercing stare. “She was my fiancee,” I admitted finally, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.
Her eyes widened in shock, the flicker of surprise breaking through her guarded expression. “Your fiancee?” she repeated, her voice quieter now.
“Yes,” I said, my own voice tight. “A long time ago. Before I realized who she really was.”
Aria opened her mouth as if to respond but then stopped. She turned back to the railing, her fingers gripping the cold stone so tightly that her knuckles were pale. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Because it doesn’t matter,” I said, taking another step closer to her. “She doesn’t matter. What happened between us is in the past. You’re my Luna now, Aria. Not her. She’s nothing to me.”
She let out a soft, bitter laugh, shaking her head as her grip on the railing tightened. “It doesn’t feel that way, Zander,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “Not when she’s standing in front of me, telling me she was your true love. Not when she’s looking at you like she still owns a piece of you.”
“She doesn’t,” I said firmly, reaching out to touch her arm. She flinched at the contact but didn’t pull away. “I swear to you, Aria, whatever Lyra says-whatever she thinks-it’s not the truth. She’s trying to cause trouble because she knows I’ve moved on. She knows I’ve chosen you, and she can’t stand it.”
Aria turned to face me again, her eyes searching mine as if looking for answers I couldn’t give. “Have you?” she asked softly. “Moved on?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice unwavering. “I have.”
The words hung in the air between us, heavy and unspoken emotions swirling around them. She studied me for a long moment, and then, finally, she nodded. Her shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, and some of the tension in her posture eased.
“Then make sure she knows that,” she said quietly, her tone steady but firm. “Because I won’t play second to someone from your past, Zander. I can’t. And I won’t.”
“You won’t have to,” I promised, my voice low but certain. “I’ll make sure of it.”
She held my gaze for a moment longer, and then she turned back to the railing. Her hand brushed against mine briefly-a small, fleeting touch, but one that carried so much weight. It reminded me of what I stood to lose.
Lyra was a ghost from my past, but she had no place in my future. As I stood beside Aria in the cool night air, I made a silent vow to myself. I wouldn’t let Lyra’s poison seep into the life I was building with Aria. Not now. Not ever.