17. Aria

17

ARIA

I am standing outside of Zane's dojo, the cool evening air biting at my skin. I can hear the sounds of training inside, along with bodies hitting mats and the occasional grunt. I've been debating whether to go in for a few minutes now. My heat suppressant is working, thank the stars, but I'm not exactly eager to jump into a room full of people after the day I've had.

It wasn't a terrible day, but not one of the guys showed up at the apartment or at work, and for some disturbing reason, that actually bothers me, which is ridiculous. I'm a grown ass woman. I don't need a man to validate me.

I made a promise to myself that I would do this. It's necessary for me to learn self-defense. After everything I've been through, I can't risk being unprepared. My mind is quite literally arguing with itself, and it won't shut the fuck up.

Zane was mean.

That makes him the perfect teacher.

Does it really?

Yes! That means he will treat me like a person and not a person of interest.

Go in . Y ou know you want to. Shut up, brain.

He does look hot as hell in that uniform, and his a?—

I inhale deeply and push the door open. The familiar smell of the dojo hits me—a mixture of clean sweat, leather, and a hint of Zane's natural cologne.

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the nose plugs and put them in. They instantly shut the world out, along with all the overwhelming scents that surround me.

The class is in full swing because I'm late. Women of various ages and sizes pair off on the mats, practicing moves under Zane's watchful eye. He spots me immediately, his expression neutral, but his eyes show a flicker of surprise. I force a smile and wave, hoping it looks more confident than I feel.

"Aria," he calls out, his voice cutting through the noise. "Decided to join us after all?"

"Wouldn't miss it," I reply, infusing confidence into my tone. "Let's see what you've got."

Too eager, Aria. Take it down a notch.

I slip off my shoes and pad over to the edge of the mat. Zane gives me a nod of approval before turning back to the group. "All right, everyone, pair up and practice the escape techniques we covered last week. If you need a refresher, come see me."

I watch as the women pair off, some chatting easily with their partners, others more focused and intense. I spot an empty space near the back and head over, hoping I don't look as out of place as I feel.

"Hey, need a partner?" The voice belongs to a petite woman with long, braided brown hair. Her emerald green eyes meet mine and emit a warmth that instantly eases me. I already like her, and I can't even say why, just that she feels like someone I wouldn't hate.

Smiling back at her, I respond, "Absolutely."

She introduces herself with a friendly tone, offering me her hand. "I'm Willow," she says. We shake hands before she motions toward the mat. "Are you ready?"

I laugh, some of my tension easing. "Go easy on me, I'm a weakling."

Willow stands in front of me, her feet planted firmly on the mat as she demonstrates each escape technique. She speaks with a calm, confident tone, guiding me through the motions and making sure I have the proper form. With each move, she offers a gentle correction, her encouragement building my confidence. Her patience and understanding create a sense of camaraderie, making me feel like I'm part of something bigger.

Zane moves around the room effortlessly, his muscles flexing with each demonstration. He offers words of encouragement to each pair, and when he catches my eye, I feel my cheeks flush before I quickly turn back to Willow, not wanting to seem too distracted by his presence.

"All right, let's try something a bit more advanced," Willow says, breaking into my thoughts. "This one's great for when someone grabs you from behind."

I focus, listening intently. Willow steps behind me, her hands gripping my shoulders lightly. "Okay, so first, you want to drop your weight and twist your body like this…" She demonstrates the move, and I mimic her as best as I can.

"Good, now try it with a bit more force," she encourages. I take a deep breath and try again, this time managing to break free of her grip. Willow grins. "Nice job! You're a natural."

Despite my confidence, doubts try to creep in, but I push them aside. I'm here to learn. The movements are becoming more fluid, and a small part of me starts to enjoy the challenge and distraction.

"Looking good, ladies," Zane interrupts, and I glance up to see him watching us with a satisfied smile. "Aria, you have a great instinct for this. Keep it up." His gaze lingers on me a moment longer, a flicker of something protective flashing in his eyes. It's subtle, but it's there, making me wonder what he's thinking.

"Thanks," I say, trying to keep the blush from creeping up my cheeks. His praise feels good, more than I'd like to admit, which is probably why my internal omega hussy preens with each uttered praise from him.

My omega instincts are ridiculous sometimes. The need for praise, the urge to breed, even the way my breath catches when an alpha's hand brushes my neck—it's all hardwired into us, supposedly for the continuation of the species. But knowing the biology doesn't make it any less frustrating.

"All right, everyone," Zane calls out, thankfully dragging me from my internal chatter, clapping his hands to get our attention. "Let's switch it up. I want you to pair off with someone new and try some sparring."

Willow gives me a thumbs-up before moving to find a new partner. I'd rather tie myself to her and prevent her from partnering with anyone else. I glance around, feeling a bit lost, until I see a tall woman with curly hair approaching me.

"Mind if I join you?" she asks, her tone friendly.

"Not at all," I reply, grateful for the company. "I'm Aria."

"Sam," she introduces herself. "Let's do this."

A spark of determination ignites within me, even though this woman clearly looks like she can kick my ass. "Absolutely."

As we start sparring, I concentrate on all the techniques and strategies I've been taught, ignoring any outside disturbances. It's difficult but also invigorating. In this moment, I have a sense of power and agency that I haven't felt in some time. It's like I'm reclaiming a part of myself that was missing.

With each calculated move I execute, Noah's grip on me weakens, loosening the suffocating chokehold he has over my life, and that is worth more than any amount of wealth or power. It is a priceless freedom that I will fight tooth and nail to keep.

As an overhead buzzer sounds, signaling the end of class, I feel my stomach drop with disappointment. The room quickly becomes a flurry of movement as students pack up their bags dropped in the corners of the room and chatter excitedly about their plans for the evening. I remain frozen, dreading the moment when I have to leave this class and face the rest of my evening. I feel like this room is a bubble, and the moment I leave, I'll lose the confidence I worked hard to gain.

Zane appears beside me, his piercing gaze sending shivers down my spine. His curious expression hints at something more intense beneath the surface, and I can't help but wonder what he's thinking as he stands there, silently studying me.

"You did well, Aria," he says, his voice low and sincere.

"Don't sound so surprised, Master Zane," I mock, and maybe I'm flirting a little.

"Busted." He places a hand on his chest, his eyes twinkling.

"Maybe don't doubt me." I elbow his side.

Something flickers in his eyes before he raises a brow. "You'll have to prove yourself."

I snort. "I just did that."

"You should come to the advanced class sometime," he says, his eyes narrowing slightly as if assessing my potential. "I think you'd do well. It's rare to see someone pick up these techniques so quickly." He pauses, seeming to wrestle with a decision. "In fact, I'd like to see how far you can go. How about we test you for a white belt right now?"

I whip my head back to look at him. "Don't I just get that one?" I arch an eyebrow.

His lips tick up into a crooked smile. "No, Aria, you have to earn that belt. Now, do you want to earn it?"

"Like right now?" I peer outside at the darkness. I know my last bus leaves in half an hour, which I can make, but if I hang around, then I won't have a ride home.

"I'll drive you home," Zane offers, and my neck nearly snaps in half when I look back at him. I mean, not really, but almost. His tone is casual, but there's an underlying firmness that leaves no room for argument. It's a side of him I've seen in class but not directed at me personally.

"You'd do that?"

He shrugs, completely indifferent to my internal struggle.

I consider Zane's offer for a moment, weighing my options. The thought of spending extra time with him alone sends a thrill through me that I can't quite explain, but the rational part of my brain kicks in, reminding me of the potential risks, like smelling like an orange Creamsicle treat on a hot summer day.

Luckily, the scent suppressants are doing their thing, and I should be all right if I go through with this, but also…

I shouldn't entertain this. Zane is part of a pack, and I'm trying to avoid entanglements. His protective nature is appealing, but it complicates things. I don't want to rely on anyone who could get too close, especially after what he said last time.

Just because he's being nice doesn't mean he wants to knot you, Aria. True. Not every guy wants a taste of this sweet ambrosia pussy.

I could just kick him in the testes.

"I appreciate the offer," I say slowly, "but I don't want to impose. I can catch the bus."

Zane's gaze doesn't waver. "It's no imposition, Aria. I'm happy to do it. You've worked hard today, and you deserve a break."

His smooth words caress my ears, tempting me to give in, but deep down, I know what's right and what's wrong. My inner turmoil intensifies as I nervously bite my lip, unsure which path to choose.

"Okay," I relent, my voice barely above a whisper. "If you're sure it's not a problem."

Zane's smile widens, a genuine expression that lights up his face. "Not at all. Let's get you tested for that white belt first though."

A surge of excitement and nerves courses through me. Zane leads me back to the center of the mat and takes a stance opposite me.

"All right, let's see what you've got," Zane says, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "I want you to show me the escape techniques you learned today. I'll be the attacker, and you'll defend yourself. Ready?" His eyes bore into mine, a mix of challenge and something else—something protective and deeply rooted.

No, I'm not ready. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. "Ready."

Zane lunges forward, his arms outstretched as if to grab me. Instinctively, I drop my weight and twist, just like Willow taught me. To my surprise, I manage to slip out of his grasp with ease.

"Good. Again." Zane nods approvingly.

We repeat the process several times, with Zane increasing the intensity of his attacks each round. The mat squeaks under our feet as we move, and the scent of sweat and determination fills the air. My muscles burn with exertion, but I feel more and more comfortable with each movement, my body responding almost automatically. The satisfying thwap of successful blocks echoes through the empty dojo.

After a particularly challenging sequence, Zane steps back, a sheen of sweat on his brow. "Impressive, Aria. You're a quick learner."

I can't help but beam at his praise, feeling a sense of pride swell in my chest. "Thanks. I had a good teacher."

Zane chuckles, grabbing a towel and wiping the sweat from his face. "Flattery will get you everywhere," he teases, his eyes sparkling with mirth. There's a softness in his expression that makes my heart flutter, but I quickly shove the feeling down, reminding myself that I need to keep my distance.

Who is this Zane, and where did he come from?

I roll my eyes playfully, trying to ignore the way my stomach flips at his words. "So did I earn that white belt or what?"

Zane pretends to consider for a moment, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm, I don't know. I might need to see a few more moves before I make my decision."

Raising an eyebrow, I rise to the challenge. "Bring it on, sensei."

We square off again, and this time, Zane doesn't hold back. His attacks are swift and precise, forcing me to think on my feet. I counter each move as best as I can, drawing on every ounce of strength and determination I possess.

In one swift motion, he spins me around and locks me into a tight chokehold, our ragged breaths mingling in the charged air. As I gasp to catch my breath, Zane's hot exhalations wash over my neck like fire. "It's Master Zane," he rumbles, his voice a dangerous whisper.

Suddenly, he releases me, and I'm left reeling, my heart pounding furiously while an electrifying ache twists through my core.

Why the hell was that so intoxicating, and how can I erase it from my mind when every nerve is still screaming for more?

Pretend he said nothing. Yeah, that will work best. If I think about it too much, then I'm going to slick, and then I'll stink, but in a delicious way.

Just focus on the moves, Aria.

By the time we finish, we're both breathing hard, our bodies glistening with sweat. Zane looks at me approvingly, a hint of something unreadable in his expression.

"Well, Aria," he says, "I think you've more than earned your white belt."

He reaches into a nearby equipment bag and pulls out a crisp white belt, holding it out to me with a smile. "Congratulations. You should be proud of yourself." There's a hint of something more profound than just a teacher-student relationship in the depths of his gaze. It's as if he's silently promising that he'll be there, a guardian in the shadows, ready to step in if I need him.

I need to stop making up stories in my head about this asshat. Oh, but he's so pretty.

He hands me the belt, and I trace my fingertips along the silky surface. It's more than just a simple garment, it represents all I have achieved and overcome.

"Thank you," I say softly, meeting Zane's gaze. My fingers trace the crisp edge of the belt, its weight in my hands far more significant than mere fabric. "For everything—the lessons, the encouragement… It means more than you know." I swallow hard, fighting back the sudden swell of emotion. This belt isn't just a marker of skill, it's a talisman against my fears, a shield against my past. For the first time in ages, I feel a glimmer of true hope.

Zane's expression softens. "You're welcome, Aria. I'm just glad I could help."

He has no idea that this belt represents freedom from Noah and any future where he could possibly hurt me. I barely keep my tears from falling and have to take several deep breaths while Zane watches me carefully.

"I…ah…" Clutching the belt to my chest, I blink rapidly at him. "Thanks."

"One more thing." He steps over to the wall of cabinets and opens one, pulling out a package. "I think a small should do it." He hands it over to me. Inside is a black uniform. "This is your gi . Wear it to every practice."

My fingers tremble as I take the gi , holding onto it tightly. Honestly, I can't wait to put it on and prance around in it.

"Come on," he says, gently turning me around. His hand lingers on my shoulder a moment longer than necessary, and when I glance up, I catch a flicker of something protective, almost possessive, in his eyes. It's gone in an instant, replaced by his usual stern expression. "Let's get you home." As we walk out, I can't help but wonder what's going on behind that carefully controlled fa?ade of his.