7. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Bane

F ive years later

The dream comes first. It always does.

Her voice, soft and breathy, teasing me like the ghost she’s become. The way her hands move, tentative at first, then sure, as if she knows she’s the only one who can undo me. My wolf growls low in my chest, a sound that doesn’t echo but rumbles like a warning. Her laughter is like honey; sweet, warm, and just out of reach.

I wake up with my teeth clenched, and my fists buried in the sheets. Sweat sticks to my skin, and the faint scent of her - whether imagined or imprinted - lingers in the air.

I groan, dragging a hand over my face. My body doesn’t give me a moment to adjust; it’s already making its demands known.

“Of course,” I mutter. “You’d think after five years, I’d be over this.”

Five fucking years. Half a decade of torment. Five years of wanting something I can’t have, of grinding my teeth every time my wolf paces too close to the surface, looking for her.

“Get it together, Bane.” My voice is hoarse, scraping against my quiet room.

I swing my legs off the bed and glare at the sunlight creeping through the gaps in the blackout curtains. It doesn’t care about my mood, doesn’t care that the mornings always feel heavier than the nights.

I stalk to the bathroom, shoving the door open. The light overhead flickers once before holding steady and illuminate the space in sharp white. The tiles are cold beneath my feet as I lean over the sink, staring at the mirror.

The man staring back is a stranger. The circles under my eyes are darker than ever, my beard is thicker than I prefer, and my jaw is perpetually clenched, as though my body doesn’t know how to relax anymore.

“You’re pathetic,” I tell my reflection, not unkindly.

The shower is cold because I make it cold. Anything to pull me out of the fog that settles over my brain whenever I let her name linger too long in my thoughts. Aria.

The bond was supposed to fade after I rejected it. That’s what everyone said. The old wolves, the books, the stories. But they don’t tell you what happens when the bond doesn’t fade. When it festers instead, a wound that refuses to heal. When I must spend my remaining days not been able to touch another woman because all I can think about is my mate and how tight she felt. How she clenched around me when she was about to cum. How I was her fucking first time.

I can almost feel her, taste her, sense her nearness. My wolf stirs, responding to the familiar longing.

"Damn it," I whisper, my throat dry. My hand travels to the ache between my legs, an ache that has become a constant companion. My skin is sensitive, responsive to even the slightest touch, as if remembering her. I grip myself, my fingers wrapping around the hardness, imagining it's her doing this to me.

I close my eyes, picturing her. Her eyes, bright and curious, are looking up at me. I see her licking her lips, with a mischievous smile playing at the edges.

As my hand moves, my breath quickens, mirroring the rhythm I imagine she would use. She's on her knees, her hair cascading around her face, and there's a seductive frame for those sultry lips. Those lips that like to talk back at me. My cock throbs at the fantasy, the feeling so visceral it's almost painful.

"Fuck," I breathe, my voice hoarse with desire. "Fuck, fuck Aria… just like that."

My strokes grow more demanding, my body on edge, waiting, wanting. In my mind's eye, she swirls her tongue around the head of my cock. I jolt into my hand. The tight heat of her mouth is driving me closer to the edge.

My cock pulses, pleading for release, as her imagined touch becomes more fervent in my mind. Her fingers would dig into my thighs, and the tiny imprints of her nails would mark me, claiming me. The fantasy is so real, so captivating, I almost believe she's here.

And then, as if her ghost has granted me permission, I let go, my orgasm ripping through me. My body shakes, and I groan as my seed spills over my hand.

For a moment, the pleasure overtakes over the pain, but it's fleeting, and I am once again alone with the emptiness. This is my curse, my eternal punishment. A never-ending loop of desire and torment.

“Fuck this.”

I lean heavily against the edge of my desk, my body trembling from another wave of weakness. It’s happening more often now—this bone-deep exhaustion that no amount of rest can cure. My wolf growls low in protest, but even its voice is quieter than it used to be. I’m halfway through a mug of black coffee, and the caffeine is doing its best to drag me out of my haze, when Liam strolls into the study. It's his boots I first hear heavy against the hardwood floor, and when I look up, he as his usual cocky grin is firmly in place.

“Morning, Alpha.” He leans against the desk, crossing his arms. “Sleep well?”

“Do I look like I slept well?”

He smirks. “No, you look like hell. As usual.”

“Glad to know I’m consistent.”

“You’re getting worse.”

“No, you’re not,” he counters, crossing his arms. “The pack knows it. Hell, you know it. The bond didn’t take, Bane. You rejected her, but she’s still tied to you. And if you don’t find her soon…”

“I’ll survive,” I snap, though the words taste bitter on my tongue.

“Will you?” Liam steps closer, his voice softer now. “Because it doesn’t look like it. You’ve been getting weaker every day, and your wolf is barely holding on. You’re the alpha, but if this keeps up, you won’t be able to protect the pack—let alone yourself.”

I slam my fist onto the desk. “What do you want me to do, Liam? Go crawling back to her? Beg her to fix this?”

Liam doesn’t flinch. “You don’t have to beg. Just find her. She’s been ‘missing’ for 5 years now. Vittorio’s grip on the city is crumbling, and she’s out there, alone. Vulnerable.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. I grip the edge of the desk, my knuckles white. “It’s not like I haven’t looked. She’s very good at hiding” I mutter, but even I don’t believe it anymore. I tried to search for as long as possible because I didn’t want to accept it. I don’t want to accept the bond.

“You would have found her if you searched your wolf would literally sniff her out.”

“The private investigator will have news soon. Lets leave it at that.”

“What’s the status” I ask, leaning back in the chair and folding my arms.

“Some Rogues hit the eastern border again last night. Nothing major, they were just testing the waters.”

“They’re getting bold.”

“They’re getting stupid,” Liam corrects. “Our patrols chased them off before they could do any real damage. But there’s something else.

I narrow my eyes, my wolf stirring at the edge of my consciousness. “Go on.”

“They’re organized,” he says, his tone losing its usual levity. “This isn’t random attack; someone is pulling the strings.”

My jaw tightens. “Who?”

“We don’t know yet. But they’re moving like a pack. Their moves are coordinated, and strategic even. This isn’t the usual rogue chaos.”

I don’t respond immediately; my mind is already working through the possibilities. Rogues are dangerous enough on their own. There are feral, desperate, unpredictable. But organized rogues? That’s a whole different animal.

“Double the patrols,” I say finally. “And tell Marcus to dig into the supply routes. If they’re organizing, they’ll need resources. If we cut off their supply line, they will crumble.”

“Already on it.” Liam shifts. “Anything else you need, our fearless leader?”

I glare at him, but before I can respond, my phone buzzes on the desk.

Liam glances at it, then back at me, his eyebrows raised. “Are you expecting a call?”

I don’t answer, picking up the phone and glancing at the screen. Vincent.

“Out,” I say, already standing.

Liam raises his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll go babysit the warriors. Try not to break anything while I’m gone.”

I wait until the door shuts behind him before answering the call.

“Vincent.”

“Alpha Bane,” comes the smooth, practiced voice of my private investigator. “I’ve got something.”

My grip on the phone tightens, my pulse kicking up a notch. “Talk.”

“I found Aria.”

The words knock the air from my lungs.

“Where?” My voice is low, but my wolf growls just beneath the surface, restless and impatient.

“She’s in a small town up north,” Vincent replies. “She’s been laying low. She has a new name, and she goes by Anna Greene now.”

“What other details do you have?”

“She’s teaching at a school. Keeps to herself most of the time. She has no close ties, no friends. At least none that I have found.”

Something about that doesn’t sit right. Aria was never the type to fade into the background. She burned too brightly, commanded too much attention. She wanted to be an artist.

“Are you sure it’s her?”

Vincent chuckles. “Are you paying me to guess?”

I ignore the jab. After five years of searching, of coming up empty-handed, the thought of finally seeing her again feels like a live wire in my chest.

“What’s her location?”

“I’ll send over all the other details to your email,” he says. “I expect my balance as soon as possible.”

The line goes dead, and I lower the phone, staring at it like it holds the answers to all the questions I’ve been too afraid to ask.

I finally found her after five years. I must give her flowers for hiding that long and successfully avoiding her father and me. Now that Vincent has found her, it means her father might be closer too. I need to get to her first. I need to find her first.

Liam catches me as I’m heading out.

“Where are you going?”

“Out.”

“I noticed.” He steps in front of me, blocking the door. “Do you care to elaborate?”

“No.”

He folds his arms, his stance firm. “Look, I get that you’re all broody and mysterious, but the pack has real problems right now. You disappearing for God knows how long isn’t helping.”

“I’ll handle the pack.”

“You’re damn right you will,” he snaps. “Because it’s your job. You’re the Alpha, Bane. You don’t get to run off every time your past comes knocking.”

“I’m not running off.” My voice is sharp, “I’m handling something. Something that doesn’t concern you.”

He stares at me for a long moment, his jaw tight. “This is about her, isn’t it?”

I don’t respond, but the answer is written all over my face.

“It’s been five years, Bane,” he says, his voice quieter now. “Five years, and you’re still chasing her like she’s the only thing that matters.”

“She is.”

The words slip out before I can stop them, and Liam’s expression softens, the fight draining from his shoulders.

“Then just… be careful,” he says finally, stepping aside. “The pack needs you. Don’t let this; whatever this is pull you under.”

I nod, my hand on the door. “I won’t.”