VARDER
Marcus was still laughing when Aria entered the dining hall.
"—and then the bastard had the audacity to ask for a healer!" My second-in-command slapped the table, his booming laugh echoing off the stone walls. "After I'd already removed three of his fingers for touching what wasn't his!"
"Should've taken the whole hand," I said mildly, swirling wine in my glass. "Send a clearer message."
"That's what I said! But you know how the Eastern territories get about 'proportional response' and—" Marcus stopped mid-sentence, his attention caught by something behind me.
I didn't need to turn to know she'd arrived. I'd felt her presence the moment she crossed the threshold—that peculiar awareness that had been growing stronger since I'd announced she'd be my Luna.
"Ah, Lady Aria." Marcus stood, offering a theatrical bow. "You grace us with your presence. Please, join us. We were just discussing the finer points of diplomatic negotiation."
"Is that what you call dismemberment?" Her voice was steady, controlled. Too controlled.
Something was wrong.
I finally turned to look at her properly. She'd changed from earlier—now wearing a deep burgundy dress that made her skin look pale. Too pale. But her posture was perfect, her expression carefully neutral.
Whatever had happened with her parents, she'd buried it deep.
"Dismemberment is just negotiation with more permanent terms," I said, gesturing to the empty chair beside me. "Sit. Eat. Marcus was just leaving."
"I was?" Marcus looked between us, then understanding dawned. "Right. Yes. I was. Suddenly remembered I have... something. Elsewhere." He grabbed his wine glass. "Good evening, my lady. My lord. Try not to negotiate any fingers off each other."
He left quickly, the heavy doors closing behind him with a resonant thud.
Silence settled over the table like a shroud.
Aria moved to the chair beside me and sat with careful precision. Every movement deliberate. Controlled. Like she was walking on a tightrope and one wrong step would send her plummeting.
"Wine?" I offered, reaching for the carafe.
"Please."
I poured for both of us, watching her from the corner of my eye. She accepted the glass with steady hands, took a small sip, then set it down precisely in front of her.
"You're very composed this evening," I observed. "Considering."
"Considering what?"
"Considering you spent the afternoon with parents who clearly upset you. Considering you're sitting across from a man who announced you'd marry him without asking. Considering your entire life has been upended in the span of a few days." I cut into the roasted meat on my plate. "Most people would be falling apart by now. But not you. You just... shut it all away. Lock it down. Fascinating, really."
"I've had practice."
"I imagine you have." I took a bite, chewed thoughtfully. "Growing up with Alpha Jethro as a father would teach anyone how to hide what they're feeling. Man's a bastard. Cold. Calculating. The type to see weakness and exploit it without mercy."
Her hand tightened fractionally on her wine glass. "You know my father?"
"Know of him. Our paths have crossed in Council meetings. He has a reputation." I smiled without humor. "Not a good one. Word is he's cruel to those beneath him. Especially family. Especially daughters who don't meet his impossible standards."
"I don't want to talk about my father."
"Then let's talk about why you're here."
"You summoned me."
"I invited you to dinner. There's a difference." I leaned back in my chair. "But that's not what I meant. I meant how convenient that your parents showed up today. Right when you're on the verge of making a decision. What did they want, Aria?"
"To deliver a message."
"From?"
"Someone I don't know."
"About?"
"Things that don't concern you."
I laughed—short and sharp. "Everything about you concerns me now. You're to be my Luna. That makes your problems my problems. Your enemies my enemies. Your secrets—" I leaned closer, "—very much my business."
"Some secrets are meant to stay buried."
"And some secrets get people killed." I kept my voice light, conversational, even as my wolf bristled with unease. "Marcus, for instance. The man you just watched joke about removing someone's fingers? He got that way because he kept a secret once. Thought he could handle a problem on his own. Nearly got himself and half my guard slaughtered because he didn't trust me enough to ask for help."
"I'm not Marcus."
"No. You're much more interesting.I set down my wine glass. "Because you're sitting here lying to me about something, and I can't figure out what it is. Can't figure out if it's going to get you killed, get me killed, or just make both our lives significantly more complicated."
Her pulse jumped in her throat—visible even in the dim candlelight. But her voice remained steady. "I'm not lying to you."
"You are. You've been lying since you walked through that door." I gestured at her with my fork. "Your shoulders are too rigid. Your breathing is too controlled. You're not eating, you're barely drinking, and you're sitting exactly three inches farther from me than you were at our last meal together.
Those are tells, Aria. And I'm very good at reading them."
"Maybe I'm just nervous about agreeing to marry you."
"Are you? Agreeing, I mean?"
She hesitated—just for a fraction of a second. Then: "Yes."
The word landed between us like a stone in still water.
I waited, but she didn't elaborate.
"Yes," I repeated slowly. "Just... yes?"
"Yes. I'll marry you. I'll be your Luna. I'll play whatever role you need me to play." Her voice was perfectly even. Perfectly controlled. "Isn't that what you wanted?"
"What I wanted was many things. What I expected was more resistance." I turned in my chair to face her fully. "So let me ask you plainly, Aria—why?"
"Why what?"
"Why are you suddenly agreeing? This morning you looked ready to claw my eyes out when I mentioned marriage. Now you're sitting here saying yes like you're ordering breakfast. What changed?"
"I realized you were right." She met my gaze steadily. "I want my revenge. And marrying you—becoming your Luna—gives me the perfect opportunity for that It's practical. Pragmatic. The smart choice."
Everything she said was logical. Reasonable. Completely believable.
And I didn't believe a single word.
"You're a good liar," I said quietly. "Better than most. You have the words right. The tone right. The body language almost perfect." I leaned closer. "But there's something in your eyes. Something desperate. Something afraid. And that tells me this isn't about pragmatism at all. This is about something your parents said. Something they did. Something that has you so terrified you're willing to marry a man you barely know just to—what? To buy time? To get revenge?
"You're imagining things."
"Am I?" I reached out, and she flinched—barely, but enough. I caught her wrist gently, feeling her pulse racing beneath my fingers. "Your heart is hammering. You're terrified. And I want to know why."
She pulled her wrist free, her composure cracking just slightly. "Maybe I'm terrified of you."
"You're not. You should be, but you're not." I sat back. "You're terrified of something else. Someone else. And whatever it is has you backed into a corner so tight you're agreeing to marry me in less than few hours since I asserted it, I expected more resistance."
Silence stretched between us.
"What happened, Aria?" I kept my voice gentle now. "What did they say to you? What did they threaten? What did they ask you to do?"
For a moment—just a moment—I saw her mask slip. Saw raw anguish flash across her face, saw the weight of whatever burden she carried nearly crush her.
Then it was gone, locked away behind steel walls.
"Nothing," she said quietly. "They asked me nothing. They simply... reminded me of my position. Of my lack of options. Of reality."
But I could see I wouldn't get the truth. Not tonight. Not when she was this determined to keep it hidden.
I could push harder. Could use my authority, my power, my position to compel her. Could threaten to withdraw my offer unless she told me everything.
But something stopped me.
Maybe it was the desperate courage in her eyes—the way she was holding herself together through sheer force of will. Maybe it was curiosity about what could possibly make her this afraid.
"Alright," I said finally.
She blinked. "Alright?"
"Alright. You don't want to tell me what your parents said. Fine. Keep your secrets. For now." I picked up my wine glass again. "But know this, Aria—I will find out eventually. I always do. And when I do, there will be consequences for whoever put that look in your eyes. Understood?"
She nodded slowly, relief and something else—guilt, maybe?—flashing across her face.
"Now." I raised my glass. "You've agreed to marry me. I accept your answer, even if I don't believe your reasons. So let's discuss the practical matters. Timeline. Ceremony. What you'll need to know about being Luna."
"Just like that?" Her voice was strained. "You're just... accepting this?"
"I'm accepting your yes. I'm not accepting your lies. There's a difference." I took a sip of wine.
"But I'm patient. And I'm very good at uncovering secrets. So enjoy your mystery while it lasts, future Luna. Because sooner or later, everything comes to light. Everything."
She lifted her own glass with hands that trembled just slightly. "To practical arrangements, then."
"To practical arrangements." I clinked my glass against hers. "And to whatever game you're playing. I hope for both our sakes it's not one that ends with either of us dead."
Her eyes widened fractionally before she controlled her reaction.
Interesting.
"Marcus mentioned the Luna ceremony traditionally happens within a week of the agreement," I continued, as if that moment of revelation hadn't happened. "But given the... unusual circumstances, we can arrange it sooner. Three days, perhaps?"
"Three days?" She choked slightly on her wine.
"Too soon? We can do four. Five at the most. The Elders are already pressuring me, and I'd like to get this formalized before they find new ways to make my life difficult." I smiled pleasantly. "Unless you need more time? To... prepare?"
The weight I put on that last word made her stiffen.
"No," she said carefully. "Three days is fine."
"Excellent. Then it's settled." I stood, offering my hand. "Come. Let me show you the Luna's chambers. You should see where you'll be living before the ceremony."
She stood, not taking my hand. "I thought I'd be staying in my current rooms."
"Those are guest quarters. The Luna has her own wing. Connected to mine, naturally, but separate enough for privacy." I moved toward the door, not waiting to see if she followed.
"You'll want to inspect them. Make sure they meet your standards. Order any changes you'd like before the ceremony."
Her footsteps followed behind me, hesitant.
We walked through lit corridors in silence, my mind working through everything I'd observed. The lies. The fear. The guilt. The way she'd reacted when I mentioned death.
Whatever her parents had asked her to do, it involved me. Involved danger. Involved something she clearly didn't want to do but felt compelled to attempt anyway.
The question was: what?
And more importantly: how did I protect her from it while she was so determined to keep me in the dark?
I pushed open the doors to the Luna's chambers—a sprawling suite with windows overlooking the forest, a massive bed with dark silk sheets, sitting areas and private bathing rooms.
"It's beautiful," she said quietly, stepping inside.
"It's yours." I leaned against the doorframe, watching her explore. "Everything in Thornwood is yours now, Aria. My protection. My resources. My power." I paused. "All you have to do is trust me enough to use them."
She turned to face me, and for a moment I thought she might actually confess. Might actually tell me what was eating her alive from the inside.
But then that mask slid back into place.
"Thank you," she said simply. "For all of this."
"Don't thank me yet." I straightened. "Being Luna isn't easy. Being my Luna will be even harder. But I think you're strong enough to handle it. Strong enough to survive whatever's coming." I held her gaze. "The question is whether you're smart enough to stop trying to handle it alone."
I left her there, and I went to find Marcus.
Because if Aria wouldn't tell me what was wrong, I'd find out another way.
Starting with a very thorough investigation into Alpha Jethro, his recent visitors, and exactly what kind of deals he'd been making behind closed doors.
No one threatened what was mine and got away with it.
Not even her own family.