Zander’s POV
The hum of the jet engines filled the air, a low, constant vibration that seemed to mirror the storm raging inside me. It wasn’t just noise; it was a relentless reminder of the chaos I couldn’t escape. I sat stiffly in my seat, my fists clenched tightly on the armrests as if holding on to them would somehow anchor the fury boiling within me. My eyes never left her, the woman sitting across from me, the source of every maddening emotion I’d felt since the moment I laid eyes on her. Aria. My wife. My mate. The one who had turned my world upside down. She sat by the window, her body turned away as if trying to erase my presence. Her gaze was fixed on the endless expanse of clouds outside, a deliberate choice to avoid looking at me. Not once, not even for a second, had her eyes met mine since we boarded this plane.
Her silence wasn’t just silence-it was a challenge. A blatant act of defiance that only added fuel to the fire burning within me. She thought she could shut me out, pretend I didn’t exist, as if her presence on this plane wasn’t because of *me*. As if I hadn’t been the one to force her back where she belonged. Aria had this irritating way of acting like she wasn’t bound to me, like the bond between us meant nothing. She thought she could walk away from the life she owed me, the future that was hers to fulfill. But she was wrong. So wrong. And her stubborn refusal to acknowledge me only made me more determined to remind her of what she was-*mine*.
The memory of her father’s castle replayed in my mind, sharp and vivid, each moment like a punch to my chest. The way she stood there, head held high, her defiance written all over her face. The way she refused to come back willingly, forcing me to drag her into her rightful place. She thought she’d won something in that moment, that her resistance was a testament to her strength. But what she didn’t realize was that this wasn’t a game, and there was no victory for her here. Her stubbornness wasn’t strength; it was foolishness. She didn’t understand what was at stake or the lengths I would go to ensure she stayed where she belonged.
The tension in the cabin was unbearable, thick and suffocating, pressing down on me like a weight I couldn’t escape. And yet she sat there, so calm, so composed, as if none of this was her fault. As if she wasn’t the reason my life was teetering on the edge of chaos. She acted like her actions hadn’t brought me to this breaking point, like her choices hadn’t jeopardized everything I’d worked for-my title, my pack, my future. If she hadn’t left the castle, none of this would have happened. If she had just done what was expected of her, if she had just fulfilled her duty like she was supposed to, I wouldn’t be cleaning up this mess. But here we were, and the sight of her sitting there, pretending she wasn’t the cause of this disaster, made my blood boil.
My anger was no longer just a feeling-it was a living, breathing thing inside me. It clawed at my insides, sharp and relentless, demanding release. I couldn’t contain it any longer. The fire in my chest burned too hot, too bright, and before I realized what I was doing, I shot up from my seat. The sudden movement was so abrupt, so charged, that it startled her. I saw her flinch, her head snapping toward me as her wide eyes finally met mine for the first time since the flight began. For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Her lips parted as if she was about to say something, but no words came out.
Before she could gather her thoughts, before she could regain the composure she wore so well, I was on her. My body moved on instinct, and my hand shot out, grabbing her arm with a grip that left no room for argument. The shock on her face was almost satisfying, but it wasn’t enough to douse the flames inside me. Without giving her a chance to resist, I yanked her to her feet. Her gasp filled the cabin, sharp and full of disbelief, her other hand instinctively pushing against my chest in a futile attempt to free herself. But I didn’t let go. My hold on her arm was firm, unyielding, as I dragged her toward the private cabin at the back of the jet.
“Zander, what are you doing?” she demanded, her voice sharp and edged with anger. Her tone was fierce, but I could hear the trembling underneath, the crack in her certainty. It was subtle, but it was there, and it only fueled my resolve. Her defiance had pushed me too far, and I wasn’t going to let her walk away from this confrontation. Not now. Not ever.
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. The words were locked inside me, tangled up in the fury roaring through my veins like wildfire. My fury was too great, too consuming, and my mind was too clouded by the overwhelming need to remind her of who I was-who *she* was. She wasn’t some runaway who could defy me and get away with it. She wasn’t above the bond we shared, the one the Moon Goddess herself had created. But she needed to remember that. She needed to understand that no matter how far she ran, no matter how hard she fought, she belonged to me.
Her struggles only made the fire inside me burn hotter. She pulled against my grip, twisting and turning, trying desperately to free herself. But I didn’t let go. My hand stayed firm around her arm, unyielding, as I dragged her into the private cabin at the back of the jet. The sound of the door slamming shut behind us was loud and final, echoing in the small space. It was just the two of us now-no audience, no distractions, no way for her to escape the confrontation she had been avoiding.
The moment we entered, I spun her around without thinking, my hands gripping her tightly as I pushed her toward the bed. She stumbled, her balance faltering, and fell backward onto the soft mattress. A startled gasp escaped her lips, her wide eyes blinking up at me in shock. Her dark hair spilled across the pillows in disarray, a stark contrast to the furious flush spreading across her face. But it wasn’t fear I saw in her gaze-it was anger, burning and defiant. She glared at me, her chest rising and falling quickly as she tried to catch her breath.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she spat, her voice sharp and venomous, cutting through the tension in the room like a blade. She sat up quickly, her movements abrupt and determined, as if she thought she could still regain control of the situation. Her eyes were locked on mine, fierce and unyielding, her expression daring me to answer her.
But I didn’t give her the chance to take control. The second she moved to get off the bed, I was there. I stepped forward without hesitation, closing the space between us in an instant. My body loomed over hers, my shadow falling across the bed as I reached out and grabbed her shoulders. My hands gripped her firmly, holding her in place as I forced her back down onto the mattress.
Her resistance only made my movements more deliberate, more forceful. My fingers dug into her shoulders just enough to keep her pinned, my body tense with barely-contained rage. She stared up at me, her expression a mixture of defiance and disbelief, as if she couldn’t fathom what I was doing. But she didn’t push me away this time. She didn’t fight back.
My breathing was heavy, each breath sharp and uneven as I leaned closer to her. My heart pounded in my chest, the sound of it deafening in my ears. I couldn’t think clearly, couldn’t focus on anything except the fact that she was here, finally within reach, with nowhere left to run. My rage was overwhelming, my emotions too raw, too powerful to control. And yet, beneath all of it, there was something else-a desperation I couldn’t name, a need I couldn’t deny.