Aria’s POV.
The warmth of the coffee seeped into my hands as I held the cup tightly, staring into the dark, swirling liquid. It felt like the only thing grounding me in this moment, a fragile tether to reality. The cafe was quiet, its atmosphere a comforting blend of soft murmurs of conversation and the occasional clinking of dishes. The muted hum wrapped around me like a blanket, a stark contrast to the storm raging inside me-a relentless tempest of heartbreak, anger, and exhaustion. My thoughts churned as I tried to focus on the world around me, but the chaos in my chest refused to be ignored.
Across from me, Daniel sat patiently, his presence steady and unwavering. His piercing blue eyes studied me intently, calm yet curious, as if he were silently piecing me together without prying too much. He hadn’t asked for explanations or answers when he found me sobbing on the streets, nor when I fainted in front of his car. Instead, he had been there, quietly helping me up, offering warmth and comfort when I didn’t even realize how desperately I needed it. It was a kindness I hadn’t expected, a lifeline from a stranger when I was drowning in my own despair.
Yet now, as his steady gaze rested on me, I felt the weight of unspoken questions. I could feel them lingering in the air between us, waiting to be asked. And perhaps, for the first time in weeks, I didn’t feel the urge to run from them. Maybe it was the way his presence felt safe, or how he hadn’t judged me when I was at my lowest. Whatever it was, I found myself wondering if I could finally open up, even just a little.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Daniel said softly, breaking the silence that had stretched between us. His voice was gentle, steady, and full of sincerity. “But if you need to talk, I’m here.”
I swallowed hard, my throat tightening as I glanced away from him, unsure of how to begin. The words I wanted to say were tangled and heavy, trapped in my chest like a knot I didn’t know how to untangle. But the way he looked at me-with patience, understanding, and not a trace of judgment-made me feel like I could try. Maybe, just this once, I could let someone in.
“I don’t even know where to start,” I admitted, my voice trembling, barely above a whisper.
“Start wherever feels right,” Daniel said simply, his posture relaxed as he leaned back in his chair. He didn’t push, didn’t rush me, and for that, I was grateful.
I hesitated, my gaze dropping back to the coffee in my hands. I stared into the swirling darkness as if it might hold the answers I was searching for, as if it might somehow tell me what to say. Then, slowly, I began to speak, the words spilling out like a dam breaking.
“It all started with an arranged marriage,” I said quietly, the words feeling strange and foreign as they left my lips. It was the first time I had spoken them aloud, and hearing them made it all feel more real. “My father and Zander’s father arranged it. Both of them believed it was the perfect solution for strengthening the bond between our packs. They thought that by marrying Zander and me, we’d solidify the alliance between our families.”
Daniel’s expression remained neutral, but I caught the flicker of understanding in his eyes. He didn’t interrupt or press me for more, simply giving me the space to continue.
“I didn’t love him,” I said, my voice firmer now, though the pain still lingered beneath it. “And he didn’t love me. From the very beginning, Zander hated me. He thought I was… manipulating him, that I’d somehow tricked my father into arranging the marriage for my own benefit. But I didn’t. I didn’t have a choice in any of it. I just… went along with it because I thought it was my duty. I thought it was what I was supposed to do.”
My grip on the mug tightened, the ceramic warm against my trembling hands. “At first, I told myself that maybe we could make it work. That maybe, over time, he’d see who I really was and realize I wasn’t the person he thought I was. I tried so hard to show him that I wasn’t his enemy, that I wasn’t some manipulative schemer. But it didn’t matter what I did. No matter how much I tried, he never trusted me.” My voice broke slightly, and I paused, trying to steady myself.
“And then… things got worse,” I said, my words barely audible, the memories threatening to overwhelm me.
Daniel leaned forward slightly, his expression soft but intent, his concern evident in the way his brows furrowed. “Worse how?” he asked gently, his voice low as if he didn’t want to startle me.
I hesitated, the weight of my memories pressing down on me like an unbearable burden. My chest tightened, but something inside me whispered that I needed to let it out. That I needed to tell someone what I had been carrying alone for so long.
So, I took a deep breath, and I began to speak again.
I hesitated, my chest tightening and my breath hitching as the memories came rushing back, sharp and unrelenting. “His brother, Kael, was… difficult,” I began, my voice wavering as I tried to keep my emotions in check. “On the surface, he seemed charming, the type of person who could win anyone over with a smile or a clever word. But underneath all of that, he was manipulative, cunning, and cruel. He had this way of making you feel small, powerless, like he could control everything about you without you even realizing it.” I paused, swallowing hard as my voice caught. “He tried to…” My words faltered, trembling on my tongue. “He tried to force himself on me.” The weight of what I had just said hung heavily in the air, pressing down on me like a crushing tide.
Daniel’s jaw clenched tightly, the first visible crack in his otherwise calm and composed demeanor. His piercing blue eyes darkened, and I could see the anger simmering just beneath the surface, barely contained. It was the kind of anger that burned quietly, born from a place of deep empathy and protectiveness.
“I fought him off,” I said quickly, rushing to fill the silence as my voice trembled with the effort of holding back tears. “I didn’t let him win. But when I went to Zander, when I told him what Kael had done, he didn’t believe me.” My throat tightened painfully, and I forced myself to continue, even though every word felt like a dagger slicing through me. “He thought… he thought I had encouraged Kael, that I had invited his attention somehow. That I wanted him instead of Zander. It didn’t matter how many times I swore to him that it wasn’t true. It didn’t matter how much I begged him to listen to me. He refused to believe me.”
Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, blurring my vision, but I blinked them away furiously. I didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to break down again-not here, not now. “After Kael died in an accident,” I continued, my voice cracking, “Zander blamed me. He said it was my fault, that I was the reason his brother was gone. He called me a manipulator, said I had pushed Kael into losing control. It didn’t matter that I had nothing to do with it. In his eyes, I was guilty of everything.”
Daniel’s hands clenched into tight fists on the table, his knuckles turning white. I could see the tension in his shoulders, the barely restrained fury in the way his jaw tightened even further. But he didn’t interrupt me, didn’t try to speak over me. He just listened, his silent presence grounding me even as I felt like I was unraveling.
“And then,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, “he did the unthinkable. He broke the mating bond.” The words lingered in the air, heavy with pain and finality.
Daniel’s eyes widened slightly, the shock clear on his face. It was the first time I had seen his composure slip so completely, and it made me realize just how deeply my words were affecting him.
“The bond was severed,” I explained, my voice trembling as the memory of that moment washed over me. “I felt it snap inside of me, like a thread being cut. It was… it was like losing a part of myself, like something inside me had been torn away. And it nearly killed me.” My hands trembled as I gripped the edges of the table, trying to steady myself. “But even after that, he wasn’t done. He divorced me, humiliated me in front of everyone, treated me like I was nothing more than dirt beneath his feet. And when I thought it couldn’t get any worse…” My voice broke completely, and I had to take a moment to steady myself before continuing. “He dragged me to a clinic to prove that I hadn’t been with Kael-or anyone else. It was… degrading. Humiliating. I’ve never felt so exposed, so violated.”
The tears I had been holding back spilled over, streaking down my cheeks in hot, silent trails. I wiped them away quickly, ashamed of how fragile and broken I felt in this moment. “That’s why I ran,” I said, my voice barely audible. “I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t stay in that castle, in that pack, where everyone looked at me like I was some kind of villain. Like I had destroyed their golden boy. I just wanted to escape, to start over somewhere far away where no one knew who I was or what I’d done.”
The silence that followed was heavy, but not uncomfortable. Daniel was quiet for a long moment, his expression unreadable as he sat across from me. I could see the wheels turning in his mind, the way he was carefully choosing his words. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady, firm, and full of conviction.
“You didn’t deserve any of that,” he said, his tone laced with a quiet intensity that made my chest tighten. “What he did to you… it was cruel. It was heartless. And it says far more about him than it ever will about you.”
I looked away, my hands trembling slightly as I traced the rim of my coffee cup with my finger. “Maybe,” I said quietly, though I didn’t quite believe it. “But it doesn’t change what happened. It doesn’t change the fact that I feel… broken. Like I’ll never be whole again.”
Daniel reached across the table, his hand hovering just above mine as if he were afraid to push too far. “You’re not broken, Aria,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth and sincerity that made my heart ache. “You’ve been hurt, yes. You’ve been through more than anyone should ever have to endure. But you’re still here. You’re still standing. You’re still fighting. That counts for something.”
His words hit me like a wave, and I felt fresh tears spring to my eyes. But this time, they weren’t just tears of sadness or grief. There was something else there, something lighter, something I hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice trembling with emotion.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t feel completely alone.