Zander’s POV.
I was out of sorts, confused, and completely lost in my own head. The emotions swirling inside me were too much to handle, so I decided to spend the night at a strip club.
It wasn’t the kind of place I frequented or even liked, but I was desperate for an escape.
I wasn’t proud of the decision, but I wanted to prove to myself that I could let loose, that I could have fun, even if it was with someone who didn’t matter.
A part of me wanted to challenge myself-to see if I could forget, even for a little while, and drown out the ache in my chest by surrounding myself with strangers.
The music in the club felt like a second heartbeat, pounding relentlessly in my chest as I stepped inside.
Heavy basslines reverberated through the dimly lit space, shaking the walls and vibrating through the floor. Neon lights flickered in shades of red and blue, casting shifting shadows that twisted and danced with the rhythm of the music.
The air was thick and suffocating, a mix of cheap perfume, sweat, and booze that clung to me the moment I walked in.
It should’ve dulled my senses, should’ve helped me feel detached. But instead, it only made me more aware of the emptiness inside me, a hollowness that refused to go away no matter how loud the music got or how much I drank.
I found a seat in the back of the club, away from the chaos of the dance floor but still close enough to see the swirl of bodies moving under the flashing lights.
I held a glass of whiskey in my hand, the amber liquid swirling as I tilted it absently.
My eyes drifted across the room, landing briefly on the women who moved with practiced grace, their long legs and bright smiles demanding attention. Their gazes flickered toward me constantly, their eyes filled with recognition. They knew who I was.
They all wanted something from me. But none of them-*none of them*-were her.
I tipped the glass back, letting the whiskey burn its way down my throat. The alcohol was sharp, but it didn’t help. It never did.
I’d come here looking for an escape, hoping the noise and chaos would drown out the thoughts in my head. But instead, I found myself trapped in the same cycle, the same gnawing pain that followed me everywhere.
No matter how far I ran or how many distractions I sought, I couldn’t outrun her. Aria was always there, like a phantom haunting every corner of my mind.
A woman slid into the booth beside me, her movements smooth and calculated. She was beautiful in a way that felt artificial. Her dark hair fell in perfect waves, her lips painted a deep crimson that matched her tight dress.
She leaned closer, her perfume overwhelming as it filled the space between us. Her fingers lightly traced up my arm, her touch practiced and deliberate. “Rough night, Alpha?” she purred, her voice low and sultry, every word carefully rehearsed to lure me in.
I didn’t respond, my eyes fixed on the glass in my hand. The amber liquid caught the flickering lights, reflecting them back at me like a distorted mirror.
She didn’t take the hint. Her fingers lingered on my arm as she leaned in closer, her breath brushing against my ear. “Let me help you forget,” she whispered, her tone dripping with suggestion.
Her touch was soft, her words were smooth, and her actions were deliberate. But they meant nothing. She meant nothing.
I closed my eyes, trying to let go, trying to lose myself in the moment and let her pull me into the oblivion I so desperately craved. But the harder I tried, the more impossible it became. All I could see was Aria-her face, her smile, her laugh.
Her laughter was sharp and teasing, the kind that made you feel alive in a way nothing else could. The way her eyes lit up when she smiled was a kind of warmth that no one else could replicate. I could almost hear her voice in my head, accusing me, challenging me, teasing me about something ridiculous like stealing her dog. The memory hit me like a punch to the gut, sharp and unforgiving, and I pulled away from the woman beside me before I could stop myself.
My abrupt movement made her frown, confusion flashing across her face. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her tone shifting from sultry to irritated.
“I can’t do this,” I muttered, my voice low and rough, as I stood up from the booth.
Her confusion quickly turned to annoyance, her perfectly painted lips twisting into a scowl. “Seriously?” she snapped, crossing her arms.
I didn’t bother answering. I reached into my pocket, pulled out some cash, and tossed it onto the table without a second glance. Ignoring her frustrated protests, I pushed my way through the crowd, the pounding music and flashing lights making my head spin.
I stumbled toward the bar, ordering another drink in a futile attempt to drown out my thoughts. The burn of alcohol was sharp and familiar, but it wasn’t enough. No matter how much I drank, no matter how many times I told myself it didn’t matter, the pain didn’t go away. The ache in my chest stayed, a constant reminder of the one person I couldn’t have.
By the time I left the club, I was drunk-too drunk to be making decisions, but I didn’t care. The cold night air hit me like a slap, sharp and biting against my skin as I climbed into my car. My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles turning white as I stared at the dark, empty road ahead.
I didn’t have a plan. I didn’t even know where I was going. I just drove aimlessly, the roar of the engine drowning out the noise in my head. The streets were nearly empty, the soft glow of streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement. My rational mind told me to turn around, to go back to the castle and sleep this off. But my hands didn’t listen.
Somehow, without realizing it, I ended up near Aria’s campus. My chest tightened painfully as the familiar buildings came into view, every memory of her rushing back with relentless clarity. I didn’t even realize I’d stopped the car until the engine went silent, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the sound of my uneven breathing.
I shouldn’t have been here. I knew that. And yet, I found myself stepping out of the car, my boots crunching against the gravel as I made my way toward her dorm. The alcohol dulled the sharp edges of my guilt, but it couldn’t erase it completely.
The door to her dorm room was unlocked-a careless mistake on her part, but one I was grateful for. I pushed it open slowly, the hinges creaking softly in the stillness.
Her room was bathed in darkness, the faint glow of moonlight spilling in through the window. My eyes adjusted quickly, and I saw her curled up on the bed, her blanket pulled up to her shoulders. She looked peaceful, her breathing soft and steady, her face relaxed in a way that made my chest ache.
I stood frozen in the doorway, my heart pounding as I watched her sleep. She looked so calm, so untouched by the chaos I carried inside me. Every muscle in my body screamed at me to leave, to turn around and walk away before I made things worse.
But I couldn’t.
I took a hesitant step forward, my boots barely making a sound on the floor. My eyes never left Aria as I moved closer to her bed, my heart pounding harder with every step.
She looked so peaceful, so untouched by the weight of the world that crushed me daily. Her face, illuminated by the soft glow of moonlight, was calm and serene, her features relaxed in a way I hadn’t seen in years.
I felt a lump rise in my throat, and I swallowed hard, trying to steady myself. Every part of me screamed to turn around and leave, to stop before I crossed a line I couldn’t uncross. But I couldn’t.
I stopped beside her bed, my hands trembling as I stood there, unsure of what I was even doing. My heart ached, my wolf restless inside me as if sensing her presence was something we both desperately needed. Slowly, as if drawn by some invisible force, my hand reached out. My fingers brushed against a strand of her hair, gently tucking it behind her ear. Her skin was warm under my touch, soft and familiar in a way that made my chest tighten painfully. The simple act sent a wave of emotions crashing over me-longing, regret, guilt, and something deeper I couldn’t name.
I leaned down slightly, my breath catching in my throat as I got closer to her. My movements were slow, careful, as if the slightest noise might wake her. My gaze lingered on her face-her soft features, her long lashes, the way her lips parted slightly as she breathed. She was everything I had been trying to forget, everything I couldn’t let go of no matter how hard I tried. My lips brushed her forehead in a featherlight kiss, the touch lingering longer than it should have. It was a moment of weakness, but it was also the only comfort I’d felt in months.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice so soft it was barely audible. The words carried the weight of everything I couldn’t say-every regret, every mistake, every emotion I had buried deep inside. I wasn’t sure if I was apologizing to her, to myself, or to the universe for the mess I had made of everything.
She stirred slightly at the sound of my voice, her brow furrowing as if she were caught in a dream. My breath hitched, and I froze, terrified that she might wake up and find me standing there like a ghost from her past. But after a moment, she settled again, her breathing evening out as she slipped back into the depths of sleep.
I straightened slowly, my chest heavy with emotions I couldn’t begin to unravel. I knew I should leave. I had no right to be here, no excuse for my actions. And yet, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her. She looked so peaceful, so untouched by the chaos that had consumed my life. For a fleeting moment, I wondered what it would be like to stay, to watch over her until morning, to pretend that things between us weren’t broken beyond repair.
But I couldn’t stay. If she woke up and saw me here, it would only make things worse. It would shatter whatever fragile balance we had left and push her further away. I forced myself to take a step back, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. Every instinct in me screamed to stay, but I ignored them.
I turned and left, closing the door quietly behind me. The sound of the latch clicking into place echoed in the silence, and I paused for a moment, my forehead pressed against the cool wood. My thoughts were a tangled mess, my emotions raw and overwhelming. The cold night air hit me like a slap as I stepped outside, but it did little to clear my head.
I climbed back into my car, the leather seat cool against my back as I leaned against it. My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles turning white as I tried to steady my breathing. The alcohol still clouded my senses, leaving me in a state of hazy confusion. But no amount of alcohol could drown the guilt, the longing, or the ache in my chest.
I rested my head against the steering wheel, my breath coming in shallow gasps as I tried to get a grip on myself. What was I doing? What had I been thinking, coming here like this? I knew better. I knew this would only make things harder-for her, for me, for both of us. And yet, I couldn’t stop myself. No matter how hard I tried to move on, no matter how many distractions I threw in my path, everything always led back to her.
I started the car, the engine roaring to life as I pulled away from the dorm. The campus faded into the distance behind me, but the memories didn’t. They clung to me, relentless and unyielding, no matter how far I drove. The streets were quiet, the glow of streetlights casting long shadows on the pavement as I navigated the empty roads.
I didn’t know where I was going. I didn’t have a destination in mind. I just drove, the hum of the engine filling the silence as I tried to outrun the weight of my thoughts. But no matter how far I went, I couldn’t escape the feeling that I had left a piece of myself behind in that room, with her.
The ache in my chest was unbearable, a constant reminder of everything I had lost. I gripped the steering wheel tighter, my jaw clenching as I fought against the wave of emotions threatening to pull me under. I didn’t know what I was doing anymore. I didn’t know how to stop feeling this way, how to let go of something that had become a part of me.
All I knew was that I couldn’t forget her. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how far I ran, Aria was always there. She was in my thoughts, my memories, my every decision. She was everywhere, and I couldn’t escape her.
As I drove through the empty streets, the city lights flickering in the distance, I realized the truth I had been avoiding for so long. I wasn’t moving on. I wasn’t healing. I was stuck, trapped in the same endless loop of pain and regret. And no matter how much I told myself I didn’t care, no matter how many times I tried to convince myself I could live without her, I knew deep down that I couldn’t.
And that terrified me more than anything else.