The rain fell harder as I walked down the empty street, my clothes already soaked, my hands freezing.
Every drop that touched my skin felt like a small punishment — one that I probably deserved.
I shouldn't have let him follow me.
I shouldn't have even looked into his eyes.
But it was too late now.
Jason.
His name still echoed in my head, deep and heavy, like a memory I couldn't erase.
Eight years had passed since I last saw him, but in one second, everything came crashing back — the warmth, the betrayal, the pain, all tangled together.
And now, he had found me again.
I walked faster, trying to focus on the sound of my shoes splashing through puddles instead of the sound of my heartbeat.
Why was he here?
Why now?
When he'd stepped into the pizza shop earlier, it was like the whole world froze.
Even the air felt different — thick, electric.
Everyone had looked at him like he was some kind of god in a suit, but to me, he was just a reminder of everything I'd lost.
He'd defended me — yes.
He'd scared my boss half to death.
But I didn't need a hero. Not anymore.
Heroes leave.
And they always leave you broken.
I stopped at the bus stop, shivering. My phone buzzed weakly in my wet pocket, but the screen was too cracked to even show who was calling. Probably my manager, or maybe a wrong number. I didn't care.
I sat on the cold bench, hugging my arms tight.
The streets were quiet now, the rain washing away everything — the smell of smoke, the noise, the heat.
Then I felt it.
A presence.
Someone was standing behind me.
I didn't have to look. I already knew who it was.
My heart recognized him before my eyes did.
> "You'll catch a cold," he said softly.
His voice was calm — too calm — like he was afraid I'd run if he spoke too loud.
I didn't turn around. "Why are you following me, Jason?"
He didn't answer right away.
Then I heard footsteps — slow, steady — until he was standing beside me.
He didn't hold an umbrella. His hair was wet, his white shirt clinging to his skin, and rain dripped from his jawline.
Even the sky seemed to dim around him.
> "Because I need to talk to you," he said simply.
I laughed — cold and bitter. "Talk? About what? About how you ruined my life ten years ago?"
He didn't flinch. "I didn't ruin it, Aria."
I finally turned to him, my anger bubbling up like fire.
"Then who did?" I shouted. "You watched them drag me out of the Blue Moon Pack like I was nothing! You said nothing! You did nothing!"
My voice broke halfway, but I didn't care.
He just stood there, water dripping down his face, his eyes glowing faintly under the rain.
He looked like guilt itself — tall, strong, silent.
> "I was young," he said quietly. "I made mistakes."
"Too many," I whispered.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
The rain poured harder, and thunder rolled somewhere far away.
Then he reached into his coat and pulled out a white envelope.
> "What's that?" I asked.
He held it out to me. "A contract."
I frowned, confused. "What kind of contract?"
> "A deal," he said. "You'll come back to the Blue Moon Pack. Live there. Work there. As my Luna."
My mouth fell open. I blinked, thinking I'd heard wrong. "Excuse me?"
> "You need money. Protection. A home. I can give you all that," he continued, his tone calm but firm. "In return, you'll stand beside me during the Alpha Ceremony. Pretend to be my Luna for six months."
I stared at him like he'd lost his mind. "You can't be serious."
> "I am," he said.
He took a step closer. The rain soaked through both of us now, but neither of us moved.
I could see his eyes clearly — deep gray, full of something I couldn't name.
> "You'll be paid," he added. "Enough to start a new life anywhere you want after the contract ends."
My hands trembled as I took the envelope from him.
I didn't even open it. I could already feel the weight of it — money, power, control.
> "Why me?" I whispered. "You could choose any she-wolf. Any woman who actually wants you."
His jaw tightened. "Because you're my mate."
The words hit harder than thunder.
I froze. My breath caught in my throat.
"Don't say that," I whispered.
> "It's the truth."
I shook my head, stepping back. "No. That bond died a long time ago. You killed it."
> "Then let me fix it," he said, his voice rising slightly. "Let me make it right, Aria. You don't have to love me. You just have to give me time."
I almost laughed again, but my voice came out as a broken whisper.
"Time doesn't heal everything, Jason."
He stepped closer again, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his body despite the cold rain.
"Maybe not," he said softly. "But I'll still try."
The silence between us stretched until all I could hear was the rain.
His scent — rain and pine — filled my lungs, wrapping around me, pulling at something deep inside me that I didn't want to feel again.
I looked down at the envelope in my shaking hand.
A contract.
A deal with the man who once shattered me.
If I said no, I'd stay broke, hungry, and invisible.
If I said yes, I'd walk straight back into the past I'd fought so hard to escape.
> "Think about it," he said quietly. "You don't have to answer now. But I won't wait forever."
Then he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there in the middle of the street, drenched, speechless, the envelope clutched to my chest.
The rain kept falling, but all I could feel was the echo of his scent — and the part of me that whispered, what if he means it this time?
I hated myself for even thinking it.
As I finally started walking home, I didn't realize he was still there — across the street, watching me disappear into the mist.
And somewhere deep inside me, my wolf stirred for the first time in years…
whispering a single word I didn't want to hear.
Mate.