Aria woke with a jolt.
For a moment she forgot where she was—no creaky packhouse floors, no stiff mattress, no cold morning air that smelled faintly of rejection. Instead, she was wrapped in soft gray sheets, warm and clean, with sunlight filtering through tall windows framed by thick velvet curtains.
She blinked, disoriented. Then everything from the night before rushed back to her—the rejection ceremony, the whispers, the way her heart had shattered with Liam's words, and Damien sweeping in like a storm and taking her away before she crumbled completely.
Her chest tightened, but she forced a slow breath.
She wasn't home. She wasn't in the pack. She was in Damien Blackwood's mansion—no, his fortress.
A knock interrupted her thoughts.
"Aria?" A woman's soft voice. "I brought breakfast."
Aria sat up quickly. "Come in."
