Zander’s POV.
But that plan was falling apart. Every time I saw her, every time her fiery eyes defied me or her stubborn spirit clashed with mine, I felt the walls I’d carefully built around myself begin to crack. She wasn’t supposed to matter. I wasn’t supposed to care. And yet, she was burrowing under my skin, making me question everything. And now, with Asher’s sudden appearance, my control-over myself, over the situation-was slipping. Anger, jealousy, and something far more dangerous churned inside me, threatening to consume me.
I clenched my fists, my claws itching to extend as I stopped pacing and stared out the window. I needed to remind her who she belonged to.
The library was quiet when I found her, the soft glow of the afternoon sun streaming through the tall windows and casting golden light across the room. She was sitting at the grand oak table in the center, her sketchbook open in front of her. Her head was bent, her pencil moving in graceful, fluid strokes across the page. She didn’t notice me enter.
For a moment, I stood there, watching her. Her brows were furrowed slightly in concentration, her lips pressed together in a way that told me she wasn’t satisfied with what she was drawing. She paused, erased a line, and redrew it with more precision. Despite everything, she looked… peaceful. Innocent. Beautiful. It was a quiet moment, almost fragile, and it struck me in a way I didn’t expect.
And then the image of her sitting across from Asher in that cafe flashed in my mind. The way he must have looked at her, the way he must have spoken to her, trying to worm his way into her thoughts, her life. The jealousy burned through me like wildfire, hot and uncontrollable, and whatever softness I’d felt a moment ago vanished.
“Aria,” I said sharply, my voice cutting through the stillness of the library like a blade.
She startled, her pencil freezing mid-stroke as her head snapped up to look at me. Her expression shifted from surprise to something guarded. “Zander?” she said cautiously, as if she already knew something was wrong.
I didn’t give her a chance to say more. In three long strides, I crossed the room and stopped just short of the table, my presence towering over her. “We need to talk,” I said, my voice firm, leaving no room for argument.
Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she set the pencil down with deliberate care. “About what?” she asked evenly, though I could see the faint tension in her shoulders.
“You know what,” I growled, my voice low and dangerous. “Asher.”
She sighed, leaning back in her chair as if trying to put space between us. “Are we really doing this again?” she asked, her tone exasperated. “I already told you, I didn’t invite him to the cafe. He showed up, Zander. What was I supposed to do? Cause a scene in front of everyone?”
“You could’ve walked away,” I snapped, my voice rising. “You could’ve told him to leave. But instead, you sat there with him. You had coffee with him, Aria. Do you have any idea what kind of message that sends? To him? To everyone else?”
She tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as irritation flashed across her face. “I didn’t want to make a scene,” she said firmly, her voice rising to match mine. “And I was *curious*, okay? I wanted to know why he was there, what he wanted. I thought it was better to talk to him than to cause a public spectacle.”
“Curious?” I growled, the word like poison on my tongue. “You wanted to entertain him? Indulge him? He’s dangerous, Aria! He doesn’t deserve your curiosity. He doesn’t deserve anything from you!”
Her expression hardened, her frustration clear. “I wasn’t entertaining him, Zander. And I’m not a child. I can handle myself. You don’t need to storm in here and lecture me every time something happens.”
Something inside me snapped at her words. My hand shot out, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to her feet in one swift motion. She gasped, her wide eyes locking onto mine as I moved closer, closing the distance between us until there was barely any space left.
“You’re my Luna,” I said, my voice low and possessive, each word deliberate and heavy with meaning. “Mine. Whether you agreed to this bond or not, you’re mine. And I won’t let anyone-especially Asher-come anywhere near you. Do you understand me?”
Her cheeks flushed with anger, and her free hand pressed against my chest as she tried to push me back, but I didn’t let her go. “You can’t just-” she started, her voice trembling with fury.
“I *can*,” I said, cutting her off, my grip tightening slightly-not enough to hurt, but enough to make her feel the weight of my words. “And I *will*. You’re my responsibility, Aria. You’re my mate. And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you, even if you don’t like it.”
“That’s not the point!” I roared, my voice echoing through the room like a whip crack. My hands curled into fists at my sides, the tension in my body threatening to snap. “The point is that you stayed. You *talked* to him. Do you have *any* idea what kind of man Asher is? What he’s capable of?” My chest heaved as I glared at her, trying to make her see, to *understand*.
“I know enough,” she said, her voice calm but firm, her tone like ice against the fire of my anger. Her eyes met mine without flinching, steady and unyielding. “I know he was your best friend. I know he betrayed you. But that’s your history with him, Zander. That’s between you and him. It has nothing to do with me.”
“It has *everything* to do with you!” I snarled, my hands slamming down on the table in front of us. The impact rattled the empty glasses and books scattered across its surface. She flinched-just slightly-but quickly masked it with a sharp glare, her defiance as fierce as ever. “He’s not here by accident, Aria. He’s here because of *you*. He’s trying to worm his way into your life, into your head, and you’re too blind-too *naive*-to see it!”
“I’m not naive,” she fired back, her voice rising to match mine. Her hands clenched at her sides, her cheeks flushed with fury. “And I don’t need you to protect me, Zander. I’m not some helpless child!”
“Clearly, you do,” I shot back, my words sharp and biting. “Because you’re walking straight into his trap, and you don’t even see it! You’re playing right into his hands, Aria. Do you think he’s just here to chat? To have coffee? He’s a predator, and you…” My voice faltered for a split second, but I pushed on. “You’re letting him circle you like prey.”
Her eyes blazed with anger, her lips parting as if she wanted to scream at me, but she didn’t. Instead, she stood abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor as she pushed it back. “This isn’t about Asher,” she said, her voice trembling-not with fear, but with barely contained emotion. “This is about *you*. This is about the fact that you don’t trust me. You’ve never trusted me.”
“Why should I?” I snapped, taking a step closer, forcing her to look up at me. “You’re reckless. You don’t think about the consequences of your actions. You don’t-”
“Don’t *what*?” she interrupted, her voice cutting through my words like a blade. She stepped closer now, her chin tilting up defiantly. “Don’t act like the perfect Luna you want me to be? Don’t bow down and follow your every order without question? Newsflash, Zander-I never asked for this. I never wanted to marry you. I never wanted any of this!”
Her words hit harder than I expected, slicing through me with brutal precision. For a moment, I couldn’t speak. My throat tightened, and my mind scrambled for a response, but all I could do was stare at her, the weight of her words pressing down on me like lead.
She took a step back, her chest rising and falling as she tried to steady her breathing. Her hands shook slightly, but her voice didn’t waver when she spoke again. “If you hate me so much, Zander,” she said quietly, “why don’t you just let me go?”
*Because I can’t.*
The thought surged through my mind like a tidal wave, unbidden and unwanted. I shoved it down, burying it beneath the anger, the frustration, the jealousy that burned like wildfire in my veins. I couldn’t let her see it. I couldn’t let her know.
“You’re my wife,” I said coldly, my voice like steel. “And as long as you’re my wife, you’ll do as I say. That means staying the hell away from Asher. Do you understand me?”
She stared at me, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. For a split second, I hated myself for putting that look in her eyes. But I couldn’t back down. Not now. Not ever.
“Fine,” she said, her voice trembling but steady enough to sting. “If that’s what you want.”
And then she turned and walked away. Just like that. She didn’t slam the door. She didn’t scream or throw anything. She just left, leaving me standing there in the empty room with nothing but the sound of her footsteps echoing down the hall.
—
That night, I sat alone in my office, the fire in the hearth casting flickering shadows across the dark walls. The whiskey in my glass sat untouched on the desk in front of me, the amber liquid glinting in the firelight. I stared at it, my thoughts a chaotic mess of anger, guilt, and something far more dangerous.
I should’ve felt satisfied. I’d said what needed to be said. I’d made my point, reminded her of her place, reminded her that she was *mine*. That was what I wanted, wasn’t it? To keep her in line. To protect her. To keep her away from Asher.
But instead, all I felt was guilt. Crushing, suffocating guilt that twisted in my chest like a knife.
I grabbed the glass and downed the whiskey in one gulp, the burn doing little to numb the ache inside me. My jaw tightened as I set the glass down with a heavy thud, leaning back in my chair and running a hand through my hair.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This marriage was supposed to be a means to an end-a year-long arrangement, a stepping stone to secure my title as Alpha King. I was supposed to hate her, to make her life miserable for a year and then cast her aside like she meant nothing.
But somewhere along the way, everything had changed.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her-the way she stood up to me, the fire in her eyes, the way her voice shook with emotion but never gave way to fear. The way she looked when she was lost in her art, her pencil moving across the page like the world outside didn’t exist.
And the thought of Asher anywhere near her, speaking to her, looking at her, *wanting* her-it made me want to rip him apart.
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk and burying my face in my hands. My breathing was uneven, my thoughts spiraling out of control.
I was playing a dangerous game, and I knew it. The anger, the jealousy, the possessiveness-they were all just masks for something deeper, something I wasn’t ready to face.
But as much as I tried to bury it, to push it away, one thought kept rising to the surface, no matter how hard I fought to ignore it.
I didn’t hate her.
And that terrified me more than anything else.
.