Damian didn’t knock—he stormed into Aria’s room like a verdict.
His eyes were a storm contained in a man’s body—sharp, furious, shaking with something far more dangerous than rage.
“Pack your things,” he said, voice a blade. “Now.”
Aria turned slowly, her breath catching. “What happened?”
“The Syndicate council called an emergency vote.” He threw a set of encrypted folders onto the bed. “Tribute Night will be finalized by midnight. If I refuse again, they’ll declare war on Wolfe territory.”
Her stomach dropped. “War? Because of me?”
Damian’s jaw clenched. “Because they think they get to decide who you’re handed to.”
He stepped closer, every line of his body vibrating with barely controlled violence. “They think they can take what I—”
He stopped himself, breath strangling in his throat.
Aria whispered, “Damian… why are you risking everything for me?”
His expression shattered.
He moved faster than she could react—fist wrapping around the chain clipped to her collar—and with one brutal yank, he tore it free.
The metal snapped with a sharp crack. Aria stumbled, heart in her throat.
“You really think this is mercy?” he hissed. “You really think I’m doing this because I care?”
“I don’t know what to think!” Aria fired back, voice trembling with anger and fear. “You say you hate me—you hurt me—and then you protect me like—like—”
“Like you belong to me?” he growled.
Her breath hitched. Heat shot through her chest.
Damian stepped into her space, grabbing her waist with one ruthless hand, dragging her flush against him. Their bodies collided, the contact a violent spark.
His breath brushed her ear—hot, ragged, furious.
“Listen to me,” he whispered, voice dangerously low. “Possession is the only language this world understands. If I don’t claim you, they will. And they won’t stop at bruises or threats.”
Aria’s pulse thundered.
“That’s not protection,” she whispered. “That’s control. That’s ownership. That’s treating me like—”
“A person?” Damian’s fingers dug into her waist. “You think they’ll treat you like a person? You think the Syndicate cares about your name, your innocence, your fear?”
He leaned closer, lips almost touching hers, breath shaking. “The only reason you’re still alive is because I said you were mine.”
She stared up at him, chest heaving, anger and confusion spiraling.
“I’m not your possession,” she whispered fiercely.
Damian’s eyes burned. Something snapped open in him—hate, hunger, history, all tangled and catastrophic.
“You already are,” he breathed. “Whether you want to be or not.”
The moment pulsed—hot, charged, terrifying. His grip tightened, her breath shuddered, and for one suspended heartbeat Damian Wolfe looked at her like he might finally do the unforgivable—
Touch her. Kiss her. Claim her. Then he pushed her away—so suddenly she almost fell.
His own breath fractured out of him as if he’d been stabbed. He raked a trembling hand through his hair, stepping back like distance alone could save him from the impulse to destroy everything between them.
“Get your things,” he choked out. “We’re leaving the tower.”
He didn’t look at her again as he grabbed his phone, voice snapping to steel.
“Jaxon. Prep transport. Use Route Nine. Full blackout, full decoy rotation. We move in five minutes.”
Aria stood frozen, chest rising and falling too fast, skin burning where his hands had been.
She forced herself toward the elevator—shaking, angry, terrified, fighting the chaos he’d left behind.
But the moment her hand touched the elevator’s sensor—
A gunshot exploded from somewhere below.
Not a distant echo.
Close.
Inside the tower.
The floor trembled under her feet.
Damian’s head snapped up, eyes ice-sudden and lethal. “Get back—”
The lights flickered—once, twice—then half the floor went dark as security shutters locked halfway, glitching in a way they were never designed to.
A second gunshot followed, louder.
Closer.
Aria’s blood ran cold.
Damian’s voice cut through the dark like a knife.
“They’re inside the tower.”
Boots thundered up the stairwell.
A voice shouted from below—
“Find the girl!”
Damian reached her in two strides, shoving her behind him with a force that stole her breath. His next words were a snarl ripped straight from hell:
“They’re here for you.”