Chapter 77

Aria’s POV

Of all the things he might have come here to talk about, I had not been expecting this.

“Your family gathering? At Harold and Julia’s?” I asked.

“Typically yes,” Lucian said. “But this time, I will be hosting. Would you be able to go?”

I frowned somewhat, confused by this request. Lucian had said he could handle the details of the divorce all on his own. Was he rescinding on that now? Or was there some other reason he wanted me to go?

Whatever the reason, he seemed tight-lipped about it. In fact, he said so little, other than his request, that I was wondering why he couldn’t just call me. Or have Ben drop by. This seemed like a needless errand for the Alpha King himself.

On reflex alone, I was prepped to say no. However, I’d been worried about Harold and the stress he was under. I had a feeling that Sheila had been at least partially the cause.

Jasper had told me that Lucian’s family hated Sheila, but knowing Sheila, she was now pushing Lucian for a new bond and kids. That alone could be enough stress to press down onto Harold’s heart.

Sheila was likely to be at this meeting too. That didn’t make me any more eager to go – the opposite, in fact – but if I could see the dynamics at play, perhaps I could calculate the exact nature of Harold’s stress. Then, as Dr. A, I could present Lucian with solutions to help preserve Harold’s health.

The sooner this occurred, the better, as I still had every interest in walking out of this pack the very first minute that I could.

At the same time as checking on Harold, since this party would be at Lucian’s, I could use this as an opportunity to snoop through my old things and hopefully recover that telling diary I had inadvertently left behind in my haste to escape such a lonely home.

“Will Harold and Julia be there?” I asked.

“Yes,” Lucian said. “I don’t know if you heard about my dad…”

“Cathy told me,” I lied quickly. “How is he? I meant to reach out.”

Lucian held up his hand, as if to tell me it was fine that I hadn’t checked in.

“He’s doing okay.”

That was hardly an answer. “Cathy said it was something with his heart…?”

“Yeah,” Lucian said. And nothing more.

How frustrating, knowing exactly what was going on but unable to get any answer out of Lucian.

“Stress?” I asked.

Lucian shook his head. “I don’t want to worry you. He’s fine.”

He wasn’t fine, and I knew that. But I couldn’t continue to question him without revealing too much. For now, I was going to have to bite my tongue.

Perhaps this was what pushed me over the edge finally, into making my decision. If I couldn’t discover the truth of Harold’s current condition from Lucian, then I would need to go to the source.

Lucian was leaving out a lot, I was sure. God only knew what Sheila had been up to lately, causing stress to the entire family, I guessed, looking at Lucian.

In another decade or so, if things didn’t change, he’d be laid up beside his father with the same condition.

I wouldn’t tell him that. At least, not as Aria. Dr. A was going to let him have it the next time they spoke though.

“I’ll be there,” I said, and closed the door right in his face.

I was annoyed by his withholding of certain facts, and by his presence when a phone call would have done the job.

Maybe I wouldn’t have answered but… he could have at least tried that. He was also found of his notes. He could have left one of those. He didn’t need to darken my doorstep once more and give me these feelings again.

Now I had one more obligation to see him once more. How could I put him properly behind me if I kept needing to see him?

And how much longer could I keep seeing him before he would start to notice my slowly growing stomach?

Sighing, I gave up on dinner and turned back toward my bedroom, eager to look through my dresses to find something that would hide my waist.

Lucian’s POV

Lucian stared at the door long after Aria had closed it, his chest feeling tight. Seeing Aria again was doing things to his insides. All of his emotions felt jumbled and confusing and his wolf was of no help whatsoever.

“She’s losing the smell of us,” he grumbled in my mind. “Soon she will not carry our scent at all.”

“We broke the bond. That’s what is supposed to happen.”

“No! She is ours.”

“She isn’t,” I said firmly in my mind. “Not anymore.”

My wolf curled up on himself miserably, and my ache felt fresh.

With distance, the hollow feeling in my chest hadn’t healed exactly, but I’d grown accustomed to it. Yet, seeing Aria again made everything amplify once more.

Perhaps because, for a fleeting moment, while I had been speaking to her and she had been so close to me, my chest had felt full, as if we had never broken our bond.

Yet as soon as that door was closed, the connection severed once more, and the emptiness felt even worse.

Part of me wanted to break down the door, just so I wouldn’t feel so hollow anymore. But I would never do that to Aria or to myself. I had far too much dignity. Too much pride. And frankly, Aria deserved better than the kind of brute who would force himself when he wasn’t wanted.

It was a terrible struggle, but slowly I was able to pull myself away from the door. With each step, my feet felt like they were covered in concrete weights. By the time I reached my car, I was exhausted.

I couldn’t look back at the house, for fear I would run back and humiliate myself. Instead, I forced myself into the backseat of my car. Thank God I wasn’t driving tonight.

The only solace I could think of that offered me any kind of comfort, was the knowledge that I would see Aria again soon. The family event was in a couple days. Then, I would be near her again, and this ache in my chest might feel healed again, at least for a little while.

“Drive, please,” I told the driver, who peered back at me through the rear-view. He already knew our destination. No, right now, he was just curious.

I couldn’t blame him entirely. It was a strange request, having him bring me here tonight.

Aria and I weren’t on speaking terms, every one of my servants knew this. Yet here I was, back at her doorstep again, requesting her presence when a phone call or letter would have done.

I had needed to see her in a way I didn’t fully understand. It had felt vitally important somehow.

Yet, with this new emptiness, I almost wished I had sent Ben instead.

“No, you don’t,” whispered my wolf, calling out my lie.

No, I didn’t. Instead, I was looking forward to the next time I could see Aria again.