CHAPTER 3 – The Return of Armani
I'd spent the entire night trying to forget the mark on my neck and the stranger who had bound me.
But even in my sleep, he haunted me.
And now, the Alpha's eldest son was returning to the pack.
By morning, the entire pack was buzzing with activities.
I had heard stories while growing up, about how he left years ago to go and train with the Northern packs, about how ruthless he had become and even how Alphas hesitated to challenge him.
When I reached the gathering field, the crowd was thick.
The Alpha stood proudly at the front, with Roland by his side, a stiff, forced smile on his face. I stood near the back, hoping to blend in.
"Do you think he's changed?" Lena whispered beside me.
I shrugged. "Probably. He's been away for years. There's no way he's the same."
She smirked. "You sound nervous."
"I'm not," I lied.
The sound of engines cut through our chatter.
A convoy of black SUVs rolled in, kicking up dust as they stopped near the platform.
The doors opened and the first men who stepped out looked like soldiers, tall and muscles.
Then another person emerged and my breath hitched.
He was everything the rumors said.
He was taller than Roland, broader, his dark hair falling slightly over his brow. But there was something else.
Power radiated off him, silent and commanding.
His eyes, a deep gold with flecks of amber, scanned the crowd.
And when they landed on me, it felt like the world stopped.
My wolf surged forward, howling inside me.
I couldn't breathe.
My heart pounded violently in my chest. That same pull, the burning connection from the masquerade, came alive instantly, wrapping around my chest.
His gaze didn't waver.
His expression didn't change.
But his eyes darkened just a bit.
Alpha Gregory's voice broke the moment. "Welcome home, my son."
Armani bowed his head slightly, his tone steady and deep. "It's good to be home, Father."
He exchanged brief nods with the council members, then his gaze returned to me.
Lena elbowed me gently. "Ari, he's staring at you."
"I know," I whispered, trying not to panic. "Don't look."
But it was too late.
He was already walking toward us.
People moved aside, making a path straight to where I stood.
Roland's head snapped up, his brows furrowing as he noticed who Armani was looking at.
"We've met before, haven't we?"
It was more of a statement than a question.
My stomach dropped.
My throat went dry.
"No," I said quickly, forcing my voice to be steady even though I felt everything but. "We haven't."
His lips twitched looking amused. "You're sure about that?"
I swallowed hard. "I think I'd remember meeting the Alpha's son."
"Would you?" His tone was teasing but held something else underneath—certainty.
Before I could answer, Roland stepped forward, placing himself between us. "Armani, this is Ariel. She's—"
"I know who she is," Armani interrupted smoothly, his eyes never leaving mine.
Roland frowned. "How?"
Armani tilted his head slightly. "Just a hunch… but I think we've met before."
My pulse skipped. Roland stiffened beside him, confusion flashing across his face. "Ariel's one of our best trackers," he said tightly, defensively. "You'll be seeing a lot of her in training."
The way he said it—like a warning—made something flicker behind Armani's gaze.
He took a step closer, and his scent hit me. My whole body reacted.
The same scent from that night.
I forced myself to look away, but my eyes drifted to his hand and I noticed a faint scar, cutting across the skin between his thumb and forefinger.
My blood ran cold.
The masked man had the same scar.
It couldn't be a coincidence.
My heart thudded painfully. I stepped back slightly, thoughts spinning.
It's him.
It's really him.
But how?
Why hadn't he said anything?
Roland's voice broke through my panic. "Ari, you okay?"
I blinked rapidly, forcing a smile. "Yeah. Just tired."
Armani's eyes lingered on me, sharp and knowing.
His lips curved again in that same infuriating half-smirk.
"Welcome home," I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "Though it feels like I never left."
The rest of the ceremony passed by in a blur.
I stood there like a ghost, unable to focus on anything except the weight of Armani's gaze.
When it was finally over, I slipped away toward the forest edge, desperate for air.
My wolf was restless, pacing inside me.
He's ours.
"No, he's not," I whispered fiercely. "He can't be."
He marked us, she hissed.
I pressed my hand to my neck.
The faint crescent mark still glowed softly.
I thought of his words at the party, the way his voice had shaken when he called me his mate.
Could Armani really be the masked man?
It didn't make sense.
He was the Alpha's heir—powerful, disciplined, untouchable.
Why would he sneak into a Halloween party and hide his identity?
Unless he hadn't planned it either.
Footsteps crunched behind me. I turned quickly, my pulse leaping.
Armani stepped out from between the trees, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable.
"Running away again?" he asked.
I stiffened. "I wasn't running."
He chuckled softly. "You've been avoiding my eyes since the moment I arrived. That's close enough to running."
I crossed my arms. "Maybe I just don't like being stared at."
"I wasn't staring," he said, taking a step closer. "I was trying to remember."
"Remember what?" I asked, though my voice shook.
His eyes softened just a fraction. "How you felt in my arms."
The air left my lungs.
"Stop," I whispered. "You're confusing me with someone else."
He smiled faintly. "Am I?"
I looked away, but he moved closer until there was barely an inch between us.
"Your scent doesn't lie, Ariel," he murmured. "I could find it in a storm of a thousand wolves."
My heart raced. "You're— You were at the party."
He said nothing, just reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear.
His fingers grazed the mark on my neck, and heat shot through me like lightning.
I gasped, stumbling back. "Don't touch me."
He held my gaze, unbothered. "It reacts to me because it's mine."
"It's not yours," I snapped, more to convince myself than him.
His jaw flexed, but his tone stayed calm. "You can deny it all you want. Your wolf already knows."
I shook my head, panic clawing at my chest. "You can't just— You can't show up here and say things like that. You're Roland's brother. You—"
He stepped closer again, cutting me off with that steady, burning stare. "I didn't choose this, Ariel. Neither did you. But the bond doesn't care about rules or bloodlines."
"Stop," I said again, my voice breaking.
For a
long moment, we just stood there, the night wind brushing through the trees, our breathing the only sound.
His eyes softened, a hint of something almost tender breaking through.
Then he whispered, voice low enough that only I could hear it:
"You can't run from fate, Ariel. Not when it already chose you."