Chapter 4 — Running Into the Storm
1540 Words
Aria couldn’t sleep.
Hours after Dante had walked out of the diner, she lay in her narrow bed, staring up at the cracked ceiling, his voice replaying in her mind on an endless loop.
You’re my mate.
She rolled over, burying her face in the pillow, trying to block it out.
Straining to shoo away the feel of the way her body still vibrated with consciousness, every nerve stretching taut, waiting for him.
Wanting him.
She hauled herself up into a sitting position, running her hands over her face.
This was insane.
She did not believe in destiny mates or shifters or any of that über supernatural bull.
She believed in working hard.
Bills.
Reality.
Not fantasy.
Not golden-eyed strangers who could hold her heart in their gaze with a mere glance.
But no matter how hard she tried to convince herself, the truth gnawed at her, irrefutable and bitter:
She could sense the connection.
It was not something she could define or justify.
It was there.
It was him.
There was a knock on the door that startled her so badly she almost fell off the bed.
Hammering in her chest, she crept to the window and peered out through the curtain.
Her breath caught.
Dante, rain-soaked, his black jacket stuck to his huge frame, steam rising from his skin in the chill night air.
Waiting.
Quiet.
Patient.
Her dangerous heart soared towards him, yearning.
She flung the door open, not even caring that she was barefoot, wearing only an enormous T-shirt and shorts.
"What are you doing here?" she accused, hating the way she sounded panting.
Dante's eyes ran over her, hot and claiming, then locked onto her eyes.
"You didn't call," he said gruffly.
"I was scared."
"I'm fine," she snapped, her arms crossing over her chest.
"Go home."
"I don't have a home," he informed her, his voice low and raw.
"Not without you."
Her breath hitched at the brutal truth of his words, settling deep in her chest.
Dangers.
Terrifying.
Tempting.
"I need space," she breathed.
"I need to think."
He moved forward, and involuntarily, she took a step back.
He stopped at once, hands up in defeat.
"I'll give you space," he said, his voice thick.
"I just needed to see you. To make sure you’re safe."
"I’m fine," she repeated, but her voice cracked.
Because a tiny part of her wasn’t fine.
She was falling apart inside.
Scared.
Lonely.
Confused.
And Dante made all of it worse.
And better.
His golden eyes softened, and he tilted his head slightly, studying her.
"You’re not fine," he said quietly.
"You’re terrified."
She bit her lip, fighting tears.
"I don't even know you," she repeated, hating the way her voice shook.
"I'll fix that," Dante stated fiercely.
"I'll spend the rest of my life earning your trust if I have to. Just… don't shut me out, Aria."
She leaned against the doorframe, exhausted.
"Why me?" she whispered.
"Of all the people in the world, why me?"
He smiled then—gentle, amazed, as if she were sacred.
"Because the moon chose you," he said simply.
"Because my soul did."
Tears spilled down her cheeks before she could stop them.
And before she could think, before she could stop herself, she threw herself into his arms.
Dante caught her easily, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her against his warm, solid chest.
She sobbed into his shirt, clutching him like a drowning woman clinging to a life raft.
"I’m scared," she choked out.
"I don't know how to do this."
"You don't have to," he breathed into her hair.
"I'll carry you if I have to."
They leaned against the doorway, rain pounding around them, their arms wrapped tight in an ageless, fate sort of hug.
Finally, Aria stepped back, her face slick with rain and tears.
"You're wet," she breathed, shivering.
"Come inside before you get pneumonia."
A slow smile crept over Dante's face, and he stepped inside, not wishing to overwhelm her.
She closed the door behind him, feeling ridiculously lightheaded, as if she'd stepped off the edge of a cliff and didn't know if she was falling or flying.
—
An awkward silence descended between them.
Dante in the center of her small living room, dripping water on the carpet, out of place among her secondhand furniture and chipped coffee table.
Aria stood in the doorway, unsure what to make of herself.
Should she offer him a towel?
Tea?
Her soul?
He regarded her with such intensity that she felt her skin prickle.
As though he could see through her.
See all her fears, all her hopes, all her hidden, breakable pieces.
"Sit," she finally said, gesturing towards the couch.
He took a seat at once, sprawling across the cushions with surprising smoothness for someone as big as him.
She disappeared into the bathroom, retrieving a towel, and tossed it in his face when she reappeared.
"Thanks," he grunted with a crooked smile, blotting it across his hair.
Aria gingerly sat at the edge of the armchair, arms wound tight around her self.
"So," she murmured, shivering only the barest degree.
"Tell me everything."
Dante's smile fell.
He leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands loosely clasped between them.
"I'm a wolf shifter," he said flatly.
"My pack—my family—were murdered five years ago by another Alpha. I've been on the run ever since, just trying to stay alive."
She took in a harsh breath, horrified.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
He shrugged, but his eyes were barren.
"It's in the past. I made it through. That's all that matters."
He paused, then continued.
"When a wolf loses everything, he starts losing himself. I was. on the verge of losing my humanity. On the verge of becoming a rogue."
Aria frowned.
"Rogue?"
He nodded gravely.
"Rogues are shifters who lose their minds. Become nothing more than beasts. Destructive. Unpredictable. When a shifter has no anchor, no purpose, no bond to keep him here, in this world, he."
He broke off, shivering.
"And then you came."
"We pulled you back."
She swallowed hard.
"I didn't do anything."
"You were there," he said brusquely.
"And my wolf knew you. Knew you were mine. Knew you were the reason to stay sane. Stay human."
Aria looked at him, stunned.
"I don't understand," she said frantically.
"Why you? I'm just… me."
"You're everything," Dante said with passion.
"You're strong. Good. Brave. Beautiful."
She flushed, covering her face.
"I'm a waitress in a dying town," she said with venom.
"I'm nothing special."
"You're mine," Dante snarled, his deep voice vibrating across the room.
"And that makes you the most special thing in the world."
A dangerous heat spread in her chest, enveloping her ribs, making it hard to breathe.
He truly believed it.
Every single word.
She could see it in his eyes.
And some broken, starving piece of her needed to believe it too.
Needed to be someone's.
Needed to be wanted that much.
"I don’t know how to be someone's mate," she whispered.
Dante smiled, slow and devastating.
"I’ll teach you."
He rose from the couch, moving toward her with slow, deliberate steps, giving her plenty of time to back away.
She didn’t.
She couldn’t.
When he reached her, he dropped to his knees in front of her, taking her hands in his.
"You’re scared," he said gently.
"I get it. I'll go as slow as you need. I'll wait as long as necessary. But don't get it twisted, Aria—"
He squeezed her hands tighter, his eyes burning into hers.
"—I'm not going anywhere. You're it for me. Forever."
She'd lost the battle against tears, and a sob tore its way from her throat as she threw herself into his arms again.
He closed her in a low, broken noise, holding her so tightly it hurt.
But she didn't let the hurt trouble her.
Made it real.
Made him real.
They crouched like that for a very long time, clinging to one another, two broken things repairing themselves with nothing but hope and desperation.
—
Later, after the rain had stopped and the world grew quiet again, Aria burrowed up on the couch, blanket-wrapped, and Dante slept on the ground.
He had insisted.
Refused to leave, but also refused to make her feel uneasy.
So he slept on the floor, near enough she could sense him, but far enough she could breathe.
She regarded his face, surprised by how peaceful he looked in slumber.
The tense lines of his jaw smoothed.
The tight tension in his muscles released.
He looked younger.
Vulnerable.
Beautiful.
Aria's heart twisted with pain.
She had no idea how this was going to be.
Didn't know if she was strong enough to handle it.
But she knew one thing.
She couldn't let him go.
Couldn't lose him.
Because in some impossible way, in the span of a single day, he had become everything she never knew she required.
And deep in the darkest, quietest recess of her soul—
She knew she had become the same for him.
Their connection was real.
Unbreakable.
Forever.
And no matter what storms were brewing—
They would ride them out together.
- Writer
