Chapter 5

Ronan's POV

When Aria's email arrived, my wolf let out a low, sustained growl in my chest, like a starving beast that had finally caught the scent of blood.

Fifteen years.

The first time I saw Aria, she was standing in the Silvermoon Pack's festival square, wearing a white dress with fresh flowers woven through her hair. When she laughed, every eye in the square turned to her. The Alpha's daughter of Silvermoon. Everyone doted on her. Everyone loved her. Wherever she went, laughter followed.

Back then, Silvermoon was so powerful that no pack dared challenge them. Bloodmoon, Silvermoon, and Blackmoon stood in a three-way deadlock, and every wolf on the West Coast bowed before those three names.

Then Silvermoon fell overnight.

My father sent me into rogue territory to investigate. I spent three months in those filthy camps, chasing every lead, interrogating every rogue who might have known something. By the time I came back with my report, Aria was already Damon's girlfriend.

Nobody told me. Nobody thought it was worth mentioning.

Because nobody knew I wanted her.

When I saw Damon with his arm around her shoulders, Aria leaning into him, her face glowing with happiness—

my wolf howled in agony inside me.

For years, I forced myself to stop thinking about her. Every time I saw Aria, I'd look away before she could notice me watching.

I locked away every memory of her in the darkest, deepest corner of my mind, then threw myself into law school and Bloodmoon Pack business. The responsibility of inheriting the Alpha seat, the endless stream of divorce cases—the sheer physical exhaustion left me no energy to Ms. Bush.

I had no idea what Aria had been through these past four years.

And now she was sitting across from me.

I spotted her the moment I walked into Moonlight Cafe. Even in a crowd of a hundred, I would have found her instantly.

She was still beautiful. Her features were as delicate as they'd been fifteen years ago, those pale blue eyes like gemstones.

But I could see the exhaustion. Dark circles shadowed her eyes. Her cheeks were thinner than I remembered. Her hands rested on the coffee cup, fingertips marked with half-healed cuts.

Something seized in my chest, hard.

Aria looked up at me. Her voice was calm, but I caught the faint tightness underneath.

"Thank you for meeting me, Alpha Ronan."

I pulled out the chair and sat down. My wolf grew restless inside me, straining toward her, needing to know if she was all right. I held it back.

"Aria." I kept my voice flat, clinical, the way I'd talk to any other client. "Your email said you needed legal help."

"I do." She took a breath and slid a piece of paper across the table. "This is why I'm here."

I glanced down.

A divorce petition.

My heart skipped a beat. My wolf let out a sharp, excited snarl in my skull.

"I want a divorce from Damon. I need your help. You're the best lawyer on the West Coast. If you help me, I swear I'll never appear in front of Damon again." Aria didn't hesitate. Her voice was steady.

I stared at the paper for a long time. Then I looked up.

"What makes you think I'll help you?" I said. "Damon is my best friend."

Aria looked at me, the corner of her mouth curving into the faintest smile. There was no warmth in it.

"Drop the act, Alpha Ronan," she said. "You hate me. You're the only person on the entire West Coast who wants me gone from Damon's side."

My wolf whimpered inside my head.

I do want you away from him. But I don't hate you.

I didn't say it out loud. I just lowered my eyes to the paper on the table.

"Alpha Ronan." Aria's voice dropped a degree colder. "This is your best chance."

I looked up.

"Before I decide," I said, "I want to know what happened. Last time I saw you, you seemed happy."

Aria's breath hitched. Her fingers tightened around the cup.

"If you're just here to mock me, I'll leave right now." Her hand was already on the back of her chair.

"Emotion isn't a great negotiating strategy, Aria," I said evenly.

Aria's hand stayed on the chair. She looked at me. I looked at her. Her jaw tightened a fraction, and she sat back down.

She picked up her coffee cup again, even though it had long gone cold. Then she started talking.

She told me Damon hadn't touched her in four years. That he'd slept with her maid. That his mother had treated her like a servant, made her scrub floors on her knees for four years. That nobody in the pack acknowledged her. That she'd had enough.

With every word Aria spoke, my anger grew. By the time she finished, it had curdled into the urge to kill.

Damon.

That bastard.

He'd gotten the woman I wanted most in this world, and he'd treated her like a servant? He'd cheated on her? He'd gone four years without touching her?

I forced myself to breathe slowly until my wolf stopped clawing at my self-control.

"What are your terms?" My voice came out level.

Aria studied me.

"Two things," she said. "The Lane Hotel. And my cat."

I raised an eyebrow.

"The Lane Hotel is an asset registered under Damon's name."

"It was my father's," Aria said quietly, but every word was precise. "I grew up there. After Damon and I bonded, the hotel was transferred to his name. I want it back."

In that moment, I caught a glimpse of the Silvermoon Alpha's daughter I remembered. She knew exactly what she wanted.

"I'll take your case," I said. "Give me the agreement."

I opened the divorce agreement she'd prepared and went through it line by line, missing nothing.

"The agreement itself is sound." I gave a small nod and closed it. "But you need to understand: you're a packless Omega. The Werewolf Court won't award any significant asset to an Omega unless she can prove she's capable of managing it."

Aria's jaw tightened another fraction.

I waited for her to argue.

She didn't.

"I know," she said. "That's why I have an interview next week."

"Where?"

"Weston Hotel."

My fingers stilled on the tabletop.

Weston Hotel. Bloodmoon Pack territory. My territory.

Aria met my gaze, steady and unblinking. She knew exactly what she was saying. She'd done it on purpose.

"You've woken up fast," I said. "That'll serve you well in your new life."

"So you're really going to help me?" Aria asked.

"Of course," I said. "If it gets you away from Damon, I'll do it."

Aria was quiet for a beat, then let out a soft laugh. Barely audible.

"Thank you for hating me so much, Alpha Ronan," she said. "I never thought the person who hated me most would end up being the one to help me."

I stared at her.

My wolf roared inside my skull: Tell her, Ronan. Tell her you don't hate her. Tell her you've loved her for fifteen years. You coward. You liar—

Shut up.

I snarled back at my wolf, silently.

"Who could have predicted this," I heard myself say. And this time, I wasn't letting the opportunity slip away.

Aria nodded, tucking the words away somewhere.

"One more thing," I said. "You need a new address. Weston Hotel is in Bloodmoon territory. I'll set you up with a full suite."

Aria blinked.

"I don't need—"

"You do," I cut in. "I need to keep an eye on you. I can't have you running back to Damon crying in the middle of the night. If you change your mind, it puts me in an impossible position at the negotiating table."

Aria looked at me, no give in her eyes.

"I'm not going back," she said, each word deliberate. "Ronan, from the day I left Blackmoon, I swore I'd never set foot in that manor again."

She paused.

"But I won't thank you for it."

I shrugged. I didn't need her gratitude. The thought of being under the same roof as her was already making me hard. I took a slow breath and forced the heat down.

Aria glanced at her watch. Something flickered across her face, barely perceptible—a shift, as if she'd realized something was about to happen.

She stood up. "I should go."

I stood too, extending my hand like a gentleman.

"Then it's a pleasure doing business with you, Aria."

"Likewise."

Aria took my hand. It was as soft as I'd imagined.