Chapter 98 She was everything
Aria’s POV
"You know," I said softly, trailing my fingers along his forearm, "I think you’re lying."
His attention shifted from the screen to me. "Oh?"
"Mhmm." I shifted in my seat, angling my body toward his. "I think you’re just as scared as I am. You’re just better at hiding it."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah." I let my hand drift higher, tracing the defined muscles of his arm through his shirt. "I think if I really tried, I could make you jump."
Something dark flickered in his eyes. "You’re welcome to try, sweetheart."
Challenge accepted.
I waited until another tense moment in the movie, when the music was building and you just knew something was about to happen. Then I deliberately squeezed his arm and gasped dramatically.
He didn’t even flinch.
Damn.
"Nice try," he murmured, amusement coloring his tone.
I pouted. "You’re no fun."
"No?" His hand came to rest on my thigh, warm and heavy through the fabric of my pants. "Should I be more entertaining?"
My breath caught. "I—that’s not what I meant—"
"What did you mean, then?" His thumb stroked in a lazy circle, sending heat spiraling through me. "What kind of reaction were you hoping for, Aria?"
God, the way he said my name. Like it was something sacred and profane all at once.
"I just wanted to see if you’d get scared," I said, but my voice came out breathless. "That’s all."
"That’s all?" He leaned in closer, his lips brushing my ear. "Are you sure about that?"
No. I wasn’t sure about anything anymore except the fact that I wanted him to keep touching me, keep looking at me like I was something he wanted to devour.
"The movie," I said weakly. "We should watch—"
"You’re not watching the movie." His hand slid higher, fingers splaying across my hip. "You’re watching me."
Guilty as charged.
"Can you blame me?" I whispered. "You’re much more interesting than some ghost story."
He made a low sound in his throat, almost like a growl. "Careful, sweetheart. Keep looking at me like that and we won’t be watching anything."
Heat flooded through me at the promise in his words. Part of me wanted to push, to see exactly what would happen if I kept testing his control.
But another part—the part that was still processing everything that had happened tonight.
The Bond registration conversation, the way he’d waited for me in the cold—that part wanted something softer. Something gentle.
So instead of pushing, I simply tucked myself more firmly against his side, resting my head on his shoulder.
"Damian?"
"Mm?"
"Thank you. For tonight. For waiting outside. For not being angry when I was late. For everything."
His arm tightened around me. "You don’t need to thank me for that."
"I want to, though."
We fell silent again, the movie playing on unnoticed. I found myself paying less and less attention to the screen, more and more attention to the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my ear, the rise and fall of his breathing.
I was safe here. Cherished. Wanted.
Everything Ethan had never made me feel.
My eyelids grew heavy.
I should probably sit up, I thought vaguely. Stay awake. But Damian was so warm, and I was so tired, and everything felt safe and right and...
The world tilted as my head slipped down onto his lap.
Just for a minute, I told myself. I’ll just rest my eyes for a minute.
---
Damian’s POV
I felt her weight shift, her head coming to rest on my thigh.
"Aria?" I said quietly.
No response.
I looked down. Her eyes were closed, her breathing deep and even. She’d fallen asleep.
On the screen, some ghost was chasing the protagonist through a darkened hallway, the victim screaming at the top of her lungs. I immediately reached for the remote and muted it.
Silence filled the apartment.
I sat perfectly still, afraid that moving might wake her. Her hair spilled across my lap like silk, catching the blue light from the screen.
Her face was relaxed in sleep, peaceful in a way I rarely saw when she was awake.
Beautiful.
The word drifted through my mind unbidden, and I didn’t try to push it away.
I studied the curve of her cheek, the sweep of her lashes against her skin. This close, I could see the faint freckles scattered across her nose that makeup usually hid.
My hand moved almost of its own accord, fingertips barely grazing her temple as I brushed a strand of hair back.
She needed rest. I knew how hard she’d been working, how much she’d been carrying on her shoulders.
Between dealing with Ethan’s games and navigating the minefield of Smith family politics, she barely had time to breathe.
And yet she’d still made time to buy me cufflinks. Still apologized for forgetting I was coming. Still worried about whether I was angry with her.
Still said she wanted to wait before we made the Bond official.
That particular thought sent a dull ache through my chest.
I understood her reasoning. Logically, it made sense. She wanted a clean slate before binding herself to me.
She wanted to come to me free of entanglements, able to give me her full attention.
But the wolf in me didn’t care about logic.
My wolf wanted her marked. Claimed. Mine in every way that mattered, where no one could question it or contest it.
The instinct was so strong sometimes it took actual physical effort to keep it contained, to not just pull her close and let my canines lengthen, to not Mark her throat right there and seal the Bond whether she was ready or not.
But I wouldn’t.
Because she’d asked me to wait. And I’d meant what I said—waiting was what I did best.
I’d spent years waiting for a Fated Mate who never appeared. I could wait a little longer for Aria to be ready.
Even if it killed me.
Carefully, trying not to jostle her, I slid one arm beneath her shoulders and the other under her knees. She made a small sound of protest as I lifted her, but didn’t wake.
Her apartment wasn’t large. It took only a few steps to reach her bedroom.
I nudged the door open with my shoulder and carried her inside.
I laid her gently on the bed, pulling back the covers and settling them over her. She curled onto her side immediately, one hand tucking under her cheek.
For a long moment, I just stood there, looking down at her.
"You have no idea what you do to me," I murmured, knowing she couldn’t hear. "How much restraint it takes not to just keep you. "
he stirred slightly, and I pulled my hand back.
Enough.
I straightened, forcing myself to step away from the bed. From her.
"Sleep well, Aria," I said quietly. "I’ll be here when you wake up."
I’d always be here.
Even when she didn’t ask me to be.
Even when she thought she didn’t need me.
I’d wait.
Because some things were worth waiting a lifetime for.
And she was everything.