CH 9 - Aria

ARIA POV The gate patrol waved as I passed. Casual. Almost lazy. One of them lifted two fingers from the steering wheel in a half-salute, the kind you give someone you’ve seen a hundred times before. Someone familiar. Someone harmless. Someone predictable. Someone like me. I smiled back. Not because I felt safe—but because I knew how to play the part. Because for six years I’d learned how to move through this pack without setting off alarms. How to be small. How to be agreeable. How to look like nothing worth stopping.Tiptoeing in my own life to fit into Jasper one. I even nodded, slow and polite, like this was just another afternoon. School pickup. Errands. Dinner plans. The most boring version of my life. The iron gates of Crescent Moon slid open behind me with a low mechanical hum, heavy metal retreating inch by inch. I felt it in my chest as much as I heard it—the pressure easing, the land loosening its hold on my bones. And for half a second—just half—I let myself think: *We’re out.* I made it. The road stretched ahead, straight and clean, bordered by trees that marked the edge of pack land. Two hundred meters. That was all. Two hundred meters and the invisible boundary would be behind us, the constant awareness of eyes and rules and control fading into nothing. Ella was humming softly in the backseat, forehead pressed to the window, breath fogging the glass. Owen had fallen asleep already, head tipped sideways, mouth slightly open, lashes resting against his cheeks. My sweet boy could fall asleep anywhere, any time. Like his body trusted the world more than it deserved. I smiled despite myself. My hands were steady on the wheel. Too steady. Even though we were already in no man’s land, my gut wouldn’t unclench. Something deep and old refused to relax, like an animal that knew better than to celebrate too early. Then I saw it. In the rearview mirror, the patrol car behind the gate screeched to a stop. The driver threw the door open, seatbelt forgotten, boots hitting the asphalt hard as he rushed out. At the same time, the guard at the gate—the one who’d just waved at me—turned fully toward my car. His posture changed instantly. Spine straightening. Shoulders locking. Head snapping up. His eyes widened like someone had just barked an order straight into his ear. Fuck. My smile didn’t fade. That was instinct. Training. Survival. I kept driving. Same speed. Same posture. Same calm. My pulse hammered so hard I felt it in my throat. Fuck. f**k. f**k. I pressed the gas. Not all the way. Not yet. Just enough to feel the engine respond beneath my foot. Behind me, the patrol officer started screaming. His mouth open wide, face contorted, arm outstretched toward me, palm slicing the air in a universal command. ‘Stop.’ Too late, buddy. I floored it. The engine roared, the car surging forward as the speedometer leapt past every reasonable limit. The tires screamed in protest as the road blurred beneath us. “Mom?” Ella’s voice trembled. “Why are we going fast?” I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. My eyes locked onto the stretch of road ahead like if I focused hard enough, I could bend reality and make distance happen faster. “Listen to me,” I said, voice calm in a way that didn’t feel human anymore. Too controlled. Too precise. “Mommy is going to do something you never, ever repeat. Not for anyone. Not ever.” The first howl split the air. Long. Sharp. Deep . Pack alarm. My stomach dropped so hard it felt like I’d missed a step. The sound multiplied instantly—one howl becoming many, echoing through the woods, rolling over the hills, chasing us from behind. A warning call, not a hunting one. But wolves answered both. “Mommy?” Owen was awake now, a tear sliding down his cheek, small hands clutching at his seatbelt like it was the only solid thing left in the world. “I’ve got you,” I said, louder now. Firmer. “I’ve got you. Buckle tight.” Kara surged inside me. Not panicked. Not frantic. Ready. ‘They’re coming,’ she said, voice iron-hard. ‘I’m prepared.’ “I know,” I whispered. “But we have to try to avoid any contact. We’re not ready yet.” A blur of black slammed into the side of the car. Metal shrieked. The sound ripped through my skull as the steering wheel jerked violently in my hands. The car swerved, tires screeching as I fought to keep us on the road, muscles burning with the effort. Ella screamed. “Owen!” she cried. “Hold on!” Another impact. This time from the rear. The car fishtailed hard, my heart slamming against my ribs as I corrected, breath coming fast and sharp, every instinct screaming that we were seconds from rolling. They weren’t trying to stop me. They were trying to wreck me. The realization hit like ice water poured straight into my veins. *He knows the kids are in the car.* The thought was so obscene it barely registered. *He knows.* And he didn’t care. A massive black wolf launched itself onto the hood, the impact crushing the metal inward. Claws scraped violently against the surface as the windshield cracked, spiderwebbing outward from the point of impact. Yellow eyes locked onto mine through the fractured glass. Wild. Unfocused. Feral. Jasper. My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached. “So that’s how far you’ll go,” I muttered. “Good to know.” Kara pushed forward—not shifting, not yet—but unleashing her presence in a brutal wave. The air inside the car thickened, pressure slamming outward like a physical force. The wolf on the hood blinked. Just once. Staggered back half a step, confusion rippling through his massive frame as my aura hit him like a wall. “You are not the only big bad wolf here,” I whispered coldly. The road ahead vanished as wolves poured out of the trees, bodies appearing from nowhere, cutting us off completely. More impacts rocked the car, fur and claws and weight slamming into the sides. The kids were sobbing now, full panic, Owen screaming my name over and over, voice shredding my chest from the inside. Enough. I slammed the brakes. The car skidded violently, tires smoking as we spun to a stop. The smell of burnt rubber filled the air. Silence fell in a brutal, ringing way. The black wolf on the hood snarled, massive fangs bared inches from the cracked glass. Then bones snapped. Fur retreated. The weight shifted. A very naked Jasper dropped to the ground, rage pouring off him in suffocating waves. He ripped open the driver’s side door so hard it nearly came off its hinges. “Get the f**k out of the car, Aria,” he seethed. I didn’t move. “You’ve lost your mind,” I said calmly, even as my heart hammered. “Step away from my children.” Yes. My children. Fucker. His lips curled. “There you go again,” he sneered. “Always acting like you’re the only one who matters. Like the whole f*****g world doesn’t bend around your moods.” “You almost killed us,” I said. He laughed. Sharp. Broken. Ugly. “Don’t be dramatic. If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead.” I stared at him. Really stared. This wasn’t anger. This was entitlement. “You can’t leave,” he went on, pacing now, hands flexing like he was fighting the urge to grab. “You think you can just walk away? Humiliate me? Make me a joke in front of the council, the investors, the whole f*****g world? Plus”—his eyes gleamed—“apparently you’ve been hiding things from me, my dear wifey. Haven’t you?” “You did that yourself,” I said evenly. “And I just did exactly what you did, ex-husband. You didn’t tell me anything, did you?” His face darkened. “You’re mine,” he snapped. “Mine to do as I please, little wolf. You don’t get to decide this. You don’t get to divorce me. You don’t get to take my kids.” “They’re not your leverage,” I said. “And I’m done, Jasper. I’m not yours anymore. Honestly, I probably never was.” “They’re my blood!” he roared. “And you filled their heads with your bullshit until they don’t even look at me anymore!” “That was your doing,” I replied flatly. “Every choice you made.” He stepped closer, invading my space, breath hot, eyes wild. “You think you’re better than me?” he hissed. “You think your little stunts make you powerful? You’re nothing without me. Nothing.” Kara growled low and lethal. ‘Let me out. Take off the necklace Aria’ I didn’t. Because this wasn’t about me. Jasper lunged toward the backseat. Too fast. Too close. Ella screamed. I moved. Hard. Fast. My palm connected with his chest—not a shove, but an impact infused with everything I’d been holding back. Jasper flew backward, feet leaving the ground as he slammed into the dirt with a startled grunt, shock flashing across his face before rage swallowed it whole. “Lock the doors, Ella,” I said sharply, already repositioning myself between him and the car. “And close your eyes, vita mia. Both of you.” I didn’t turn to check if they obeyed. I knew they would. My pulse thundered, but my hands were steady. Every nerve was awake. Every instinct aligned. Kara surged just beneath my skin, not frantic, not wild—ready. I rolled my shoulders once, planting my feet. If Jasper thought I was going to bend to his will— If he thought fear, or titles, or brute force would make me kneel— He had made a catastrophic mistake.