Chapter 56

[ 1,939 words ]

Disaster

56: 56.

Disaster Aria

“Okay, first of all, if you’ve died out there in the middle-of-nowhere woods, I’m going to be really pissed,” a familiar voice bursts through, bright and unapologetic.

A breath I didn’t realize I was holding leaves me in a rush.

“Geez, Hazel. Way to inspire confidence in my self-preservation ability.”

Pack, my wolf notes, softer now, but there’s no edge of warning—only recognition of someone important.

“Wow,” Hazel says dryly.

“That’s it? No tears? No ‘oh my God, Hazel, I’ve missed you so much’?”

I huff out a laugh despite myself, sinking into the nearest chair.

“Don’t push it.

I’ve been dealing with enough chaos without you adding to it.”

“Rude,” she shoots back.

Then her tone shifts, just a little.

“But seriously… how are you?”

The question lands heavier than I expect.

For a second, I don’t answer.

How am I?

Surrounded by wolves.

Bound to four men I barely understand.

Pulled in different directions by instincts that don’t feel entirely my own.

Burning.

Confused.

Alive in a way I’ve never been—and terrified of what that means.

“I’m… okay,” I say finally.

My wolf snorts.

Liar.

I ignore her.

Hazel hums, clearly unconvinced, but she doesn’t push.

Not yet.

“Okay,” she says slowly.

“We’ll circle back to that. But before we get into your mysterious small town life, let me tell you, the city? Absolute trash without you.”

A smile tugs at my lips.

“Oh yeah?

I’m sure it’s really struggling.”

“No, seriously,” she insists.

“Do you know how hard it is to find a decent wingwoman? I went out last weekend, and it was a disaster.”

I lean back in my chair, letting her voice pull me somewhere familiar, somewhere safe.

“Define disaster.”

“I had to fend off three different men by myself,” she says dramatically.

“Three, Aria. One of them tried to explain crypto to me for twenty minutes.”

I groan.

“He didn’t.”

“He did.

I suffered.

Alone.” She pauses, then adds, “You would’ve saved me.

You always do that thing where you distract them long enough for me to escape.”

“That thing is called being polite,” I say.

“That thing is called lying through your teeth,” she corrects.

“And I miss it.”

Something in my chest tightens.

“I miss you too,” I admit quietly.

There’s a beat of silence, softer this time.

Then Hazel, because she’s Hazel, breaks it with a grin I can practically hear.

“Okay, enough emotional vulnerability. Let’s get to the important question.”

I already know what’s coming.

I brace myself.

“Have you gotten your itch scratched out there,” she asks bluntly, “or is it just a bunch of old farmers and cows?”

I choke on a laugh, pressing my hand to my forehead.

“Hazel—”

“Towns like that always fall on one of two hills, old and broken down or sweaty, stacked and looking for a good time after working those long, lonely hours,” she continues.

“You’ve been reading too many Cowboy books.”

“That’s not a thing,” she says with mock offense.

“Anyway, don’t tell me you’ve been out there all this time and haven’t met a single decent man, I might actually come drag you back to the city myself.”

My wolf perks up immediately.

Tell her.

My stomach flips.

Images flash unbidden—Theo’s steady, grounding presence and his clever seeking tongue.

Barric’s intensity, always simmering just beneath the surface with calloused, ready hands.

Kade’s sharp edges and passionate kisses.

And Ronan…

Ronan’s dark gaze.

The way it lingers.

The way it claims.

And that almost-kiss—

Heat creeps up my neck.

Ours, my wolf murmurs, a thread of satisfaction weaving through her voice.

Stop, I snap back.

“You got awfully quiet,” Hazel says, suspicion lacing her tone.

“Aria.”

“I’m thinking,” I deflect.

“About what? Being pounded into the mattress?” she says immediately.

“ Oh, you are, aren’t you? Did you find yourself a hot, sweaty cowboy to ride, or is it the unassuming banker with a praise kink? Come on, you can’t leave me hanging. If I’m not going to come, I can at least live vicariously through you.”

I laugh, shaking my head even though she can’t see me.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Am I?” she challenges.

“Because I know you. And that silence? That is not ‘there are no options’ silence. That is ‘I am absolutely not telling you what’s going on’ silence.”

She’s not wrong.

But how do I even begin to explain this?

Hey Hazel, so it turns out I’m mated to multiple men, and they’re all intense, possessive wolves who look at me like I’m theirs.

Yeah.

That would go over great.

I exhale slowly.

“Let’s just say… It’s not exactly what I expected out here.”

“Oho,” she says, pouncing.

“So there is someone.

I have to say I’m just happy big brother isn’t a cock blocker.”

“There might be,” I correct carefully.

“Uh-huh. And this person—is he hot?”

My mind betrays me instantly.

Theo’s calm strength.

Barric’s raw power.

Kade’s dangerous smirk.

Ronan’s quiet, consuming intensity.

My pulse stutters.

“He’s… fine,” I say, aiming for casual and missing by a mile.

Hazel cackles.

“Fine? Shit, that’s worse than I thought. I would rather be stuck in this dry spell than have to fake an orgasm so he’d hurry up and get off of me.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t stop the small smile forming.

“Stop being dramatic. Fine is great.”

Shit, I’m a liar.

“No, it is not.

So what’s the situation?

Small town charm?

Flannel?

Brooding?

Oh, is he the kind of guy that doesn’t believe in oral?”

“Not exactly,” I mutter under my breath.

“What are you hiding?”

“Nothing.” I shift in my seat, glancing toward the door without really meaning to.

“It’s just… different out here.”

“Different how?”

I hesitate.

Because the truth is too big.

Too complicated.

Too much.

“Quieter,” I settle on.

“Slower. People actually… notice things. Pay attention.”

Hazel hums thoughtfully.

“And you like that? You want to take things slow with this fine guy. ”There’s a pause.

“Shit, is this serious?”

I think about it.

About the way they all watch me—not just with desire, but with awareness.

With intention.

About how I feel.

“It’s… something,” I admit.

“Wow,” she says.

“You’re really out here having a whole character arc.”

“Relax,” I scoff.

“I’m still me.”

“Debatable,” she teases.

“Next thing I know, you’re going to tell me you’ve taken up gardening.”

“Absolutely not.”

She laughs again, and for a moment—just a moment—I feel normal.

Like nothing has changed.

Like I’m still the same girl who went out with Hazel on weekends, who knew exactly who she was and what her life looked like.

But then—

My wolf goes still.

Someone’s coming.

I freeze, my senses sharpening instantly.

There.

A scent threads through the air—deep, familiar, unmistakable.

Ronan.

My heart kicks hard against my ribs.

“I want a heads up before the wedding,” Hazel is saying, oblivious.

“I mean it.

I do not want to find out you eloped—”

“I have to go,” I cut in suddenly.

“What?

Already?”

“I’ll call you back,” I promise, pushing to my feet as the scent grows stronger, closer.

“Soon.”

“Aria—”

“I mean it,” I say, softer now.

“I’ll call you.”

There’s a brief pause.

Then, “Okay,” Hazel says.

“You better.”

“I will.”

I hang up before she can say anything else.

For a second, I just stand there, phone still in my hand, my pulse loud in my ears.

Then I turn.

He’s already there.

Leaning casually against the doorframe like he’s always been part of the room.

Ronan.

My breath catches.

His gaze is on me—heavy, deliberate, unapologetic as it drags from my face down the length of my body and back up again.

Slow.

Assessing.

Claiming.

Heat blooms under my skin, spreading fast and dangerously.

Ours, my wolf whispers, her voice thick with approval.

I swallow, forcing myself to hold his gaze.

“How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” he says.

His voice is low, rough around the edges in a way that sends a shiver down my spine.

I set the phone down carefully, suddenly very aware of the space between us.

“Just got back?” I ask, aiming for casual and landing somewhere closer to breathless.

He pushes off the doorframe.

“Just now,” he confirms.

Each step he takes toward me feels deliberate.

Measured.

Like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

My pulse spikes.

The air shifts—thickens—until it feels like every breath takes effort.

“Everything okay?” I ask, even though my voice comes out softer than I intend.

His eyes don’t leave mine.

“Depends,” he says.

“On what?”

“On you.”

My stomach flips.

He stops a few feet away, close enough that I can feel the heat of him, close enough that the scent of him wraps around me completely.

Woodsmoke.

Steel.

Something darker underneath.

My wolf presses forward, restless.

Closer.

I don’t move.

“Ronan—”

“I want you,” he cuts in.

Not a question.

A statement.

My breath stutters.

“I uh…” I try, not sure how to respond.

I know he wants me.

All of my mates do.

And I want them.

Or at least physically I do.

But isn’t that wrong?

Just to use them for the physical when my mind and heart aren’t full on the same page about what they think this is.

A mating.

A forever love type thing.

My wolf wants to say hell yes, but part of me is still searching for a way to make all of this easily explainable.

I need something concrete to hold onto.

Not some idealistic, mythical bond or predestined mate.

Not another fantasy meant to make me believe everything will suddenly be okay.

But can I ignore the mind-numbing desire every time I’m in their vicinity

Or the fact that when I look at them, I’m seeing people who belong to me.

His jaw tightens slightly, like he’s holding something back, then it loosens, and his eyes take on that immovable determination.

“I know this may feel too soon, but I want to make our mating official; we all do,” he says quietly.

My wolf is fully on board with Ronan.

I play with the idea for a moment before blurting out, “But we don’t love each other.”

He shrugs a powerful shoulder.

“Most couples don’t know each other before they bond. Love usually grows afterward.”

The words hit something deep in my chest.

Because I do know.

Even if I don’t fully understand it.

Even if it terrifies me.

“It’s not that simple,” I say.

“What if we bond and love never comes?

Do we just stay together because fate says so?”

“That thinking is irrelevant.

The mating bond isn’t the shifter equivalent of dating; it’s finding your soul mate, the person who completes and balances you, so in our situation, everyone will provide something the other needs.

Love will happen, it’s a matter of when, not if.”

“How can you be so certain?” I ask.

“Because I am.”

My wolf growls softly.

He’s right.

I ignore her, my gaze dropping for a split second before I force it back up.

“If I say yes, how does this work?”

His expression darkens—not with anger, but with something heavier.

Possession.

“We will each give you a claiming bite, and you will give us one in return,” he says.

My heart pounds harder.

“Will it hurt?”

“You won’t mind the pain when I’m deep inside you. When we’re inside you.”

A shiver runs through me at the way he says it.

“I won’t lie to you, and I won’t force your hand. If you choose not to go through with it, we’ll respect your decision, but our wolves will get more territorial, more protective because of how close you are to danger and unattached males,” he continues, his voice low.

“We will deal with it, but you will have to be patient with us.” And if you choose to bond, the wolf will start to feel more settled with each other, and we can develop our emotional relationship through its natural course.”

Heat flares in my chest, sharp and undeniable.

I open my mouth to argue.

Nothing comes out.

Because the truth is written all over me.

My wolf lifts her head, unashamed.

Yes.

Ronan’s gaze softens—just slightly—but it only makes the intensity worse.

“Yes or no,” he murmurs.

“I need the words.”

“I—” My voice falters.

“Yes.”

The word hangs between us.

Dangerous.

Final.

My pulse roars in my ears.

Something in his expression shifts—satisfaction, relief, something deeper.

“Good,” he says as he prowls toward me.

His smooth, sure movements make me aware of the predator in front of me.

His hand lifts, slow enough that I could pull away.

I don’t.

His fingers brush against my arm, and the contact sends a spark racing up my spine.

My breath catches.

My wolf leans into it, fully now.

Ours.

Ronan’s thumb brushes lightly against my skin, grounding and consuming all at once.

“We’re going to claim you,” he says.

“Tonight.”

Not forceful.

Certain.

“And you’re going to let us.”

My heart pounds so hard it feels like it might break out of my chest.

I should be scared.

I should run.

But instead—

I step closer.

Just enough that there’s no space left between us.

His breath hitches, barely noticeable.

But I feel it.

And for the first time since all of this started—

I don’t pull away.

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