9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Bane

T he house is smaller than I expected. A quaint, single-story thing with peeling white paint and flower beds in desperate need of attention. This is where she’s been hiding? For five fucking years? My wolf stirs, restless, pacing in the back of my mind like it can already smell her inside. I step out of the car, every nerve in my body on edge as I approach the front door.

Vincent’s intel better be good. If he’s wrong—if this isn’t her—

No. I can feel it. She’s here.

My hand hovers over the door for a second longer than it should. Just knock, Devereux. But my pulse is a traitor, pounding like a goddamn war drum in my chest. I rap my knuckles against the door, sharp and commanding, and wait.

The sound of movement inside catches my ear—soft footsteps, cautious but deliberate. Then the door opens just a crack, and there she is.

Aria.

My breath catches in my throat.

She’s… different. Her hair is longer, loose waves framing a face that’s sharper, more guarded than I remember. But her eyes—they’re the same. A deep, defiant fire that makes my wolf lunge forward in recognition. My chest tightens, and for a second, I’m frozen, just staring at her.

“Bane.” Her voice is low, almost a whisper, but there’s no mistaking the edge beneath it.

“Aria,” I manage, my voice rough.

Her expression hardens, and before I can say anything else, she moves to slam the door in my face.

“Wait—” I shove the door open with ease, stepping inside before she can stop me.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She snaps, spinning to face me.

“I should be asking you that,” I shoot back, my voice colder than I intend. “You disappear for five years, and this is where I find you? In some rundown shack in the middle of nowhere?”

“Get out.” She points to the door, her tone sharp. “You have no right to be here.”

“No right?” My laugh is humorless. “You vanish without a trace, Aria. Do you know how many people I had combing the fucking country for you?”

“Why?” she snaps, fire flashing in her eyes. “To do what, Bane? Finish what you started? Or did rejecting our bond not satisfy your need to ruin me?”

I take a step closer, my fists clenching at my sides. “Don’t twist this on me.”

“Twist what?” she scoffs, folding her arms. “That you used me, tossed me aside, and then decided to play the victim? I should’ve known better than to think you were anything other than a heartless bastard.”

“Watch it,” I growl, my wolf bristling at her words.

“Or what?” She takes a step closer, her chin tilted defiantly. “You’ll reject me again? Go ahead, Bane. Tell me how I was just a mistake. You’re good at that.”

My jaw tightens, and I fight the urge to snap. “You don’t get it, do you? I didn’t have a choice. Your father—”

“Oh, here we go,” she interrupts, throwing up her hands. “Blame it on him. Like that excuses anything.”

“It does!” The words explode out of me before I can stop them, echoing through the small space like a gunshot.

Aria flinches, her fire dimming for a moment before she straightens.

I take another step forward, closing the distance between us. “You think you can just disappear and I’ll forget? That the bond we share just… goes away?”

“You made sure of that, remember?” she bites back, her voice trembling slightly. “You rejected me, Bane. You made it perfectly clear that I wasn’t good enough for you.”

“That’s not what I—”

“Then why are you here?” she cuts me off, her voice rising. “Why now? After all this time, why the hell did you come?”

I stare at her, the words caught in my throat. Because I couldn’t stay away. Because every second without her has been a goddamn nightmare. But I can’t say that. I can’t admit it—not when the anger in her eyes matches my own.

“I want answers,” I say instead, my voice hard. “And you’re going to give them to me.”

She laughs bitterly, shaking her head. “Of course you do. Because that’s all I’ve ever been to you, right? A means to an end. Well, guess what, Bane? I don’t owe you a damn thing.”

The silence between us is deafening, the tension thick enough to choke on. She’s breathing hard, her chest rising and falling with each sharp inhale, and I can feel my wolf pacing, claws scraping against the walls of my mind.

“Aria—”

“Get out,” she says again, her voice low and firm. “Leave, Bane. Before you make this worse.”

But I don’t move. I can’t. Because for all the fire and fury in her words, there’s something else in her eyes. Something raw and unguarded that cuts deeper than any insult she’s thrown at me tonight.

The moment stretches between us, taut as a wire ready to snap. She’s breathing hard, her chest heaving, and I can feel her anger radiating off her in waves. But there’s something else too—something darker, simmering beneath the surface.

“You don’t get it, do you?” she says suddenly, her voice dripping with venom. “You storm in here like some self-righteous brute, acting like I owe you something. Like the big, bad wolf can just throw his weight around and everyone’s supposed to cower.”

“Careful,” I growl, taking a step closer. My wolf stirs, hungry, and I can feel my restraint slipping.

Her lips curl into a cold, mocking smile. “What’s the matter, Bane? Don’t like being reminded you’re just a glorified dog?”

The words hit like a slap, and my wolf lunges, snarling, demanding I show her exactly who she’s talking to. My eyes darken, the shift barely restrained, and I close the remaining distance between us in one deliberate step.

“Are you speaking to me like that, princess?” My voice drops, low and dangerous, and I can see the flicker of hesitation in her eyes.

“Don’t call me that,” she snaps, but her voice wavers, betraying the cracks in her armor.

I move closer, backing her against the wall. The mate bond surges, wild and untamed, a tidal wave crashing through both of us after years of neglect. It’s raw, electric, pulling me toward her like a magnetic force I can’t fight—and I don’t want to.

Her defiance falters, and she presses her palms against my chest, trying to push me away. “You need to leave,” she says, but the words come out shaky, uncertain.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I murmur, my voice a rough growl. My hand comes up, gripping her jaw, not hard enough to hurt but firm enough to make her focus. Her skin is warm beneath my fingers, soft, and I can feel her pulse hammering against my touch. “You think you can just insult me, throw my pack in my face, and walk away unscathed?”

Her eyes widen slightly, and for the first time tonight, I see it—the vulnerability she’s trying so desperately to hide. But she recovers quickly, lifting her chin in defiance even as her breath quickens.

“Let go of me,” she demands, her voice trembling.

I lean in closer, so close that her scent wraps around me, intoxicating and maddening all at once. “Why, Aria?” I whisper, my breath brushing against her skin. “Does it scare you? Being this close to me?”

Her lips part, but no sound comes out. Her hands are still on my chest, but instead of pushing me away, her fingers curl slightly into the fabric of my shirt. The mate bond flares again, scorching through every nerve, and I can feel her trembling beneath my grip.

“I said… let go,” she tries again, but the fight in her voice is fading.

“And I said I’m not going anywhere.” My other hand comes up, bracing against the wall beside her head, caging her in completely. “Do you know what’s funny, princess? You keep telling me to leave, but your body says something entirely different.”

Her cheeks flush, and her eyes dart away, but I’m not letting her escape that easily.

“Look at me,” I command, my voice a growl.

She hesitates, her throat bobbing as she swallows hard, but she meets my gaze. Her eyes are stormy, conflicted, and it hits me all over again just how much I’ve missed her.

“You’re trembling,” I murmur, my thumb brushing lightly against her jaw. “Why is that?”

“I’m not trembling,” she snaps, but the crack in her voice betrays her.

“You are.” I press closer, and her breath hitches as my body brushes against hers. “Is it because of the bond? Or is it because, deep down, you still want me as much as I want you?”

Her eyes blaze, and for a moment, I think she’s going to fight back, to lash out like she always does. But instead, she stammers, her voice faltering. “You’re… you’re insane. I don’t want you.”

“Liar.” The word slips from my lips, a soft, accusing growl, and I see her flinch.

Her hands finally push harder against my chest, but I don’t budge. “I mean it, Bane. Get the hell out of my house.”

“Why?” I challenge my grip on her jaw tightening just slightly. “So you can keep pretending you don’t feel this?”

She shakes her head, her voice rising. “There’s nothing to feel! You made sure of that when you rejected me. Remember that, Bane? You’re the one who threw us away.”

The words sting more than I want to admit, but I don’t let it show. Instead, I lean in, my lips brushing against her ear as I whisper, “And yet here we are, princess. Five years later, and the bond still burns. Tell me that doesn’t mean anything.”

She shudders, and I can feel the tension radiating from her, a battle waging between her mind and her heart. “You don’t get to do this,” she says, her voice cracking. “You don’t get to waltz back into my life and act like you care.”

“I never stopped caring,” I growl, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

Her eyes widen, and for a moment, neither of us speaks. The air between us is thick, suffocating, charged with a heat that neither of us can ignore.

“You can't show up here, throw your weight around, and expect me to just forgive you.”

“I’m not asking for forgiveness,” I reply, my voice hardening. “I’m asking for answers. Why did you run, Aria? What are you hiding?”

Her breath catches, and for a split second, I see fear flicker across her face. But she recovers quickly, her walls slamming back into place.

“That’s none of your business,” she says, her voice cold.

“It is my business,” I counter, my voice rising. “Everything about you is my business. You’re mine, Aria. You always have been.”

Her lips part like she’s about to throw another sharp retort my way, but a small voice cuts through the tension.

“Mom?”

Both of us freeze.

The tiny sound, so soft yet so clear, shatters the heated moment like glass against stone. Slowly, I turn toward the source.

Standing in the doorway to what looks like a hallway is a boy. No older than four or five, with messy dark hair that’s a perfect mirror of mine. But it’s his eyes that hit me like a freight train—golden, just like my own.

I stumble back a step, my pulse roaring in my ears. “Who… who is this?”

Aria steps forward instinctively, her body angling protectively in front of him. Her expression is torn.

“Bane…” she starts, her voice shaky.

But I can’t tear my gaze away from the boy. My son.

The mate bond flares so violently I feel like I can’t breathe, the pieces of the last five years crashing together in a way that makes horrifying sense.

I stare at Aria, my voice barely more than a rasp. “Aria. What the hell is going on?”

And she doesn’t answer.