26. Aria

26

ARIA

With hellhounds on my heels, I burst out of the elevator, desperately searching for an exit. A long sigh crackles through the phone line at the same time the elevator dings behind me. Feeling like I'm in a race against time, I duck my head and take off for the nearest door, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts.

"It's been what, six? Seven months?" Cayenne sounds exhausted over the line, her voice a mixture of frustration and concern.

"Since what?" I rush through the revolving door that deposits me on the sidewalk. Bright sunlight streams down on me from above as I head toward the nearest bus stop, my steps hurried.

I still haven't decided if I'm going to just nope out of Puritan City or head to work. I'll figure it out soon enough.

"It's time for your come-to-Jesus moment," she says, her voice serious. The usual background noise of her typing is conspicuously absent. "You need to face some hard truths, Aria."

I pause on the sidewalk, feeling like I'm about to get scolded by a parent. "What?"

"You heard me," she mutters, then she takes a deep breath. "Did you ever wonder why I sent you to Puritan City?"

Feeling unsteady, I walk the last few feet to the bus stop and plop down on the bench before I realize just how close I am to the hotel and the bus doesn't come for another twenty minutes.

"Nope," I answer immediately. "Honestly, I figured you wouldn't send me somewhere without a backup of sorts. You often have plans inside plans inside plans."

"Of course I do," she says with the kind of confidence I hope to wield one day. "I knew Quinn was in the city, and despite my initial faux pas about his gender, I knew he was just as good of a hacker as me, and I damn well knew he worked for Puritan."

"Mm-kay." I slink behind a building, the cold brick against my back a stark contrast to the warmth of Quinn's embrace just hours ago. The city feels both familiar and alien as I try to mentally map my escape route.

"Take a left."

"Fuck, you are creepy."

"I know," she states. "Have you even tried to get to know them?"

"The guys?" I feel a wrinkle in my brows.

"Yes."

"Well," I drawl, "I know Quinn in the knotting sense."

"You're being facetious."

"How dare you use that word on me," I accuse her. "I've wanted to use that word in a sentence since the moment I learned of its existence."

"My statement stands."

"Fine," I grumble and slide onto an iron chair resting beside an iron table in front of a bakery. I didn't shower, a fact now hitting me with a dunce stick. Why am I so foolish sometimes? "We played twenty questions."

"Surface level bullshit," she scolds me. "Walk two blocks, take a right."

"I didn't shower," I hiss into the phone.

"Sometimes, I wonder if you have any sense of self-preservation at all." This time, I hear clacking. "One day, I'm not going to be around to save your ass."

I pick at a thread on my pants. I smell like cum and amazing sex, and yet her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I know Cayenne is right, but it doesn't make it any easier to hear. I've relied on her for so long, the thought of navigating this world without her guidance is terrifying.

Who else would tell me where to go in a city she's never stepped foot into? Some days, I don't think I deserve her friendship, and for a long time, I didn't understand it. How could this incredible person just exist in my life with unconditional love?

Unconditional love. It's wild, and the imposter syndrome that comes along with it is born of trauma and nightmares.

I don't deserve her.

"I know," I mumble, choking back a sob. "I'm trying, Cayenne. I swear I am. It's just…every step forward feels like I'm walking through quicksand."

There's a pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, I think she hung up on me, but then I hear her sigh.

"I know you are, Aria, but trying isn't enough. You need to start doing." Her voice is firm but not unkind. "These guys, they could be good for you if you let them in."

Fuck. There it is.

I chew on my bottom lip, mulling over her words. The idea of opening up to anyone, let alone a group of strangers, is daunting, but deep down, I know she's right—I can't keep running forever.

"You played me." I sniffle as the tears burn my eyes with the realization she sent me here to play matchmaker. She played the long game.

"Only a little," she admits. "I was hopeful that eventually, you'd feel up to seeing someone, and I trust Quinn."

"Seriously, how did you not know?" I wipe away a rogue tear and stand, following her directions to the next bus stop.

"Some days, I overlook the minute details when searching for the big-ticket issues," she says, and I get where she is going with it. Instead of focusing on gender, she focuses on understanding who Quinn is as a person, like arrests and felonies—the full background check. Sex is easily overlooked. "Which brings me back to my question. How well are you allowing yourself to get to know them?"

"I'm not," I whisper.

"Okay, but what do you know so far?"

I nibble on my bottom lip, biting hard enough so it burns. Taking a deep, steady breath, I blow it out. "Quinn." I say his name, and a little ache blooms in my chest. I have to massage it away. "He's easy," I whisper, tears filling my vision. "When he touches me, I feel like I'm coming home after being lost at sea for too long." I just drove that feeling of home as far away from me as I possibly could.

I'm a feral bitch.

"And?" she prompts.

"He's so willing to just help me. Honestly, every other word out of his mouth is just begging for a chance." Stupid tears keep falling. "He feels safe."

"And that scares you." Cayenne doesn't pull a single punch, and honestly, it's mildly rude of her.

"Yes," I admit, my voice cracking. "It terrifies me because everyone who has ever felt safe has eventually hurt me."

Or left , but I can't quite get those words out of my mouth.

Even so, my honesty hangs in the air, the truth of them settling into my bones. I've been running for so long, I don't know how to stop, how to let someone in, or how to trust that they won't shatter me into a million pieces.

Noah. It's his fucking fault.

"I know, Aria." Cayenne's voice is soft and understanding. "But not everyone is like that. Quinn is different. I wouldn't have sent you to him if I didn't believe that with every fiber of my being."

I can also read between the lines—Cayenne believes in the whole Clarke pack, and I should give them a chance.

I nod, even though she can't see me. Deep down, I know she's right—Quinn has shown me nothing but kindness and patience, even when I've pushed him away. When I've been a complete mess, he's still been there, steady and unwavering.

"You're right," I whisper, wiping away the last of my tears. "I know you're right. It's just…hard."

"I know it is, but you're strong, Aria, stronger than you give yourself credit for. You can do this." She pauses. "What about the others?" Cayenne prompts gently.

I think about Malachi, with his gentle giant presence and fierce protectiveness. "Malachi is…solid. Dependable . He makes me feel like he'd go to war for me without a single thought to himself," I whisper. Hell, I only met the guy once, and he refused to leave my side until I was behind my apartment door, and even then, he hung around.

"Good. That's good, Aria. And Zane?"

Zane. Just his name sends a shiver down my spine. "He's intense. Magnetic. When he looks at me, I feel…exposed, like he can see right through me and straight into my soul." He probably can see right through me. He pushes me without even knowing who I am as a person, a woman.

He also believes I'm a beta.

"Mm-hmm. Sounds like quite the combo. A hacker, a warrior, and a… What did you say Zane does again?"

I let out a watery chuckle. "I don't know, actually, but I get the feeling it's not exactly legal." Clearing my throat, I answer, "He works with Malachi. They all make up Puritan City Alpha Security."

She hums over the line. "That just leaves…"

"Dash," I supply, and a giggle spills out of my mouth. "He wants me to watch his band Friday night."

"He seems like he could teach you how to laugh again." She sighs softly. "Babe, I fucking miss your laugh."

I don't know why that's what breaks me, but it is. Maybe because it's a reminder of how much I've lost. Or maybe because deep down, I want to find that laughter again. Damn it, Cayenne, stop being right all the time.

Luckily, the bus stop is in view, and I plop down on the seat. The bus stop bench feels like a sanctuary I don't deserve, a momentary reprieve from the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions swirling inside me. I sit there, clutching my phone, the cool metal a stark contrast to my clammy hands. Cayenne's words echo in my mind, drowning out the city noise around me.

He seems like he could teach you how to laugh again.

It's been so long since I've genuinely laughed. Not just a polite chuckle or a forced smile, but a real, deep belly laugh. The kind that leaves you breathless and tears streaming down your face. Dash has that effect on people, a lightness that draws you in and makes you forget the weight of the world.

I close my eyes and lean back against the bench, letting the sun warm my face. Why am I feeling so many emotions? Why does the mere thought of opening up to Quinn, Malachi, Zane, and Dash send my heart into overdrive?

Fear. That's the first thing that comes to mind. The fear of being vulnerable, of letting down the walls I've built so high and strong. Every time I've let someone in, every time I've allowed myself to trust, it has ended in pain. Noah's betrayal is a wound that has never fully healed, a constant reminder of what happens when you give someone the power to hurt you.

There's more to it than just fear though. There's hope too—a tiny, fragile hope that maybe things could be different this time. Quinn's gentle touch, Malachi's steadfast presence, Zane's intense gaze, and Dash's infectious laughter all offer something I've been missing, something I've been yearning for without even realizing it.

Connection.

I've been running for so long, running from my past, my pain, and myself. I've isolated myself, convinced that it was safer to be alone, but in doing so, I've also cut myself off from the very thing that makes life worth living—genuine, human connection.

The weight of fear and past traumas has become an anchor, dragging me down. It's time to cut the chain. Maybe Cayenne is right. Maybe it's time to stop trying and start doing. Maybe it's time to take a leap of faith.

A bus pulls up to the stop, its brakes hissing as it comes to a halt. I watch as people get on and off, their lives intersecting with mine for just a brief moment. I could get on the bus and leave, continue running and hiding, or I could stay, face my fears, and give myself a chance at something real.

My heart races at the thought of staying, a mix of terror and excitement coursing through my veins. My palms sweat, my breath quickens, but for the first time in years, I feel truly alive.

"Okay," I whisper into the phone, knowing Cayenne will understand.

As the bus out of town pulls away, my heart races. Stay or go? The familiar or the unknown? With each second that passes, the weight of my decision grows heavier.

I'm going to give this a chance. I'm going to let Quinn, Malachi, Zane, and Dash in. Because if I don't, I'll always wonder what could have been. And I'm tired of living with regrets. I'm going to let myself hope and heal. It's not going to be easy, and it's not going to happen overnight. There will be setbacks, misunderstandings, and moments when I'll want to run again. But I owe it to myself to try.

I take a deep breath and stand up, feeling a strange mix of anxiety and excitement.

"So…" Cayenne jostles me out of my thoughts. "What are you going to do about it?"

I swipe at my eyes, watching the bus chug away with a cloud of exhaust. That's when I look at the time on my phone and release a watery laugh. "Go to work before I get fired."

"Then you don't want to miss the next bus," Cayenne states. "And, Aria, get to know who they are as alphas, and realize that at the end of the day, they aren't Noah."

"How dare you come at me with logic." I sniffle, knowing she's right.

"I have that habit, boo." She sighs. "I don't know how anyone can tolerate pack life."

It's a conversation we've had often, and one I want to save for another day. My emotions are raw and bruised. "It's all about that dick," I sing. "Bout that dick, bout that dick, knot-knotting."

Laughter fills my ears as the next bus comes chugging around the corner.

"Love you," I whisper and push as much emotion as I can into those two words, because the fact is, I still don't think I deserve this bitch, but I'm so fucking thankful she's in my life.

"I love you too."