Ryan’s POV
After leaving Aurora’s apartment, I leaned against the wall outside her door, inhaling deeply as if the air could calm the storm raging in my mind.
Draven, my wolf, stirred within me, his voice clear and firm. “We did it. We told her who we are, who we truly are.”
I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply. “Yeah, and scared the shit out of her in the process. She probably won’t even want to see me again.”
“You practically told her she had no choice but to come to Shadowhaven with us. That’s not how to do it, Ryan,” Draven said, his tone disapproving. “She’ll come to you. Just give her time.”
I ignored him. Draven didn’t understand how hard this was. I had waited for so long, for years wondering if I’d ever find her, and now that I had, the thought of losing her was unbearable.
Jamie was already waiting for me when I stepped out of the building. I slid into the back seat of the car, silent as he pulled away from Aurora’s apartment. My thoughts refused to quiet down. All I could see was her face, her wide, terrified eyes, the way she clutched her knees like she was shielding herself from me.
What if she didn’t just avoid me for a few days? What if this was the end? I knew she was attracted to me, she liked me, even if it hadn’t grown into love yet. But now that she knew what I was, would that change everything?
By the time we reached my penthouse, the weight in my chest felt unbearable. I needed a distraction, anything to stop thinking about her. As I opened the door to my place, I spotted a note sitting on the lampstand.
I picked it up and immediately recognized Karen’s handwriting. Her flowery script spelled out a simple message: “Your birthday is in a few days, and I’m going to make it special for you.”
Birthday? Damn it, I’d completely forgotten. Karen was always trying to make a big deal out of things I didn’t care about. I crumpled the note in my hand, tossing it onto the table. I was too tired to deal with her or anything else right now.
After a long, scalding shower, I collapsed into bed, my mind exhausted and still spinning. Images of Aurora kept flashing through my head, her voice, her laugh, her fear. What if I’d pushed her too far? What if she never looked at me the same way again?
I didn’t want to fall asleep, but when I finally fell asleep, it was restless.
*****
The next morning, I was already on edge, but there was a small part of me that clung to the hope of seeing her again. She had told me yesterday, telling me she’d still come to work, even my revelation. Surely today would be no different.
By the time I arrived at the office, I was scanning the room for her. My gaze landed on Sophie, who always seemed to know Aurora’s schedule. I didn’t usually ask her or anyone about these things, but today I couldn’t help it.
“Have you seen Aurora?” I asked, keeping my tone even.
Sophie blinked, clearly surprised that I was asking. “I think she’s running late. She didn’t tell me anything this morning,” she said, her voice cautious. “I hope everything’s okay. Is there… a problem, sir?”
“No problem,” I said quickly, brushing off the question.
I returned to my office, hoping Sophie was right, that Aurora was just running late. But as the hours passed, my hope dwindled. By noon, I couldn’t take it anymore. I pulled out my phone and sent her a text: Are you still coming to work?
The message was read almost immediately, but no reply came.
I stared at the screen, waiting. Minutes passed. Still nothing.
I decided to call her. She didn’t pick up.
An uneasy feeling settled in my chest. She was avoiding me. I knew it. I’d expected it, but knowing didn’t make it any easier.
I called again, but the result was the same…silence.
By the time the day ended, I couldn’t sit still any longer. Space? I was supposed to give her space? I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t sit back and wonder if she was okay, if she was even planning to come back.
No, I’d go to her.
****
I left the office earlier than usual. Being the boss had its perks, nobody could question my decisions, not even when I chose to abandon the mountain of paperwork waiting on my desk. Right now, none of it mattered. Only one thing did: seeing my little one.
The drive to her apartment felt longer than it ever had. I told Jamie to take some time off, I wanted to be alone. My grip tightened on the steering wheel as my thoughts raced. What if she refused to see me? What if she told me to leave and never come back? I tried to push the doubts aside, but they clung to me like a second skin.
When I reached her apartment building, her scent hit me like a wave, warm and familiar, the calming scent of lavender mixed with something uniquely hers. She was here. I stood outside her door, listening. Footsteps. Quick, light. She was moving, but then she stopped.
She knew I was here.
I knocked gently, hoping she would open the door. Nothing.
“Aurora,” I called out, keeping my voice calm. I could hear her breathing slow, as if she thought that would make her invisible to me. She didn’t understand. She didn’t know that I could hear the faint rhythm of her heartbeat, that I could sense her just beyond the door.
“Aurora, I know you’re in there. Open the door,” I said, trying again.
Still, no response.
I knocked louder this time. “Aurora, I’m not going to hurt you. Just open the door.”
Silence.
Frustration bubbled under my skin, but I forced myself to stay composed. “Aurora,” I said again, my voice firmer now, “open the door, or I’ll be forced to break it down.”
Finally, I heard her. “Say whatever you want to say from the door. I can hear you.”
Her voice was shaky, but it was there, and it was enough to stop me for a moment.
“You won’t even let your boss in?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood, though I knew how fragile this moment was.
“You’re not my boss anymore,” she shot back. “I’ve stopped working for you. Just tell me what you need to say and leave.”
Her words stung more than I cared to admit. But underneath the fear and anger in her tone, I could hear something else, hesitation. She didn’t really want me to go. She was scared, yes, but part of her wanted me to stay.
She was just scared.
“Is that what you really want?” I asked softly.
She didn’t respond, and I let out a sigh. “Aurora, just open the door, or I’m coming in,” I said, the frustration slipping into my voice now.
“You will do no such thing!” she yelled from inside, her voice trembling but defiant.
“Well, I warned you,” I muttered under my breath.
Before she could protest further, I placed one hand on the door handle and snapped it with a swift, deliberate twist. The lock gave way with a sharp crack, and I pushed the door open, stepping inside.
What I saw made me stop dead in my tracks.
Aurora was standing in the middle of the room, a baseball bat gripped tightly in her hands, raised high and ready to swing. Her eyes were wide, her face pale, and she looked like a cornered animal ready to fight for its life.
I blinked, unsure whether to laugh, apologize, or step back. “Aurora…” I said, my voice filled with a mix of disbelief and something close to amusement. “Where on earth did you even get that?”
“Stay back!” she shouted, her voice shaking. “I’m serious, Ryan! Don’t come any closer!”
I raised my hands in surrender, taking a slow step back. “Okay, okay. I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to talk.”
Her grip on the bat didn’t loosen. “You broke my door! That doesn’t exactly scream trustworthy to me!”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Aurora, I told you I wasn’t going to hurt you. I just needed to see you, to make sure you were okay. You weren’t answering my calls or texts. What was I supposed to do?”
“You were supposed to leave me alone!” she snapped.
Her words cut, but I kept my expression steady. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?” she demanded, her voice breaking slightly. “Why can’t you just leave me alone, Ryan? You’ve already turned my life upside down. Isn’t that enough?”
I took a cautious step closer, lowering my voice. “Aurora, I know you’re scared. I know this is a lot to take in, but please, just put the bat down. I’m not your enemy.”
Her arms trembled, and for a moment, I thought she might actually swing the bat. But then, slowly, her grip loosened, and she let it drop to her side.
“I don’t know how to do this,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
I took another step forward, careful not to startle her. “You don’t have to do it alone. Let me help you.”
She looked up at me then, her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, but I didn’t let it show. “I’m still me, Aurora,” I said softly. “Nothing about that has changed.”
She shook her head, taking a step back. “Everything has changed.”