Chapter 4: The Truth Beneath the Skin
1211 Words
Aria didn’t cry often.
She’d learned early on that tears got you nowhere—except marked as weak, or worse, prey. But that night, when she returned to the dorm with Kade walking quietly beside her, something splintered inside her chest. Not broken, not yet. Just cracked, like old armor too long under pressure.
She crawled into bed fully clothed, facing the wall. Her skin burned with the lingering echo of his words:
“Because my wolf already chose you.”
He hadn’t said it with demand or desperation. He’d said it like it was fact. Like gravity. Unavoidable.
And she hated how badly she wanted to believe him.
Kade didn’t press her again that night. He moved around the room in near silence, showered, dried off, and climbed into bed on the other side of the room like it was just another day. But something in the air had changed—charged, fragile, magnetic.
She couldn’t sleep.
Not because of fear this time.
But because of him.
And the slow, terrifying realization that the only place she’d ever felt safe in months... was here. With him.
***
The next morning, Kade wasn’t in his bed.
Aria blinked blearily, rolled over, and frowned at the empty mattress.
Then the door opened, and he walked in—hair damp from the shower, wearing a black tank top that clung to his frame like a second skin. He carried two mugs in his hands.
He set one down on the desk near her bunk without a word.
She sniffed the steam. Cinnamon. Strong. Sweet.
“Is this bribery?” she asked, voice hoarse.
“It’s coffee,” he said. “Don’t make it weird.”
She gave him a long look. “You don’t make coffee for anyone else.”
He shrugged. “Maybe you’re not just anyone.”
Her chest tightened.
“Careful,” she said. “That sounded dangerously close to charming.”
Kade smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll ruin it before breakfast.”
***
Training that day was brutal.
They ran until their lungs burned and sparred until their muscles screamed. Aria pushed herself harder than usual—partly to stay focused, partly to keep Kade at arm’s length. But that proved difficult when they were paired together for close-quarters combat.
He was taller. Stronger. Too fast.
Too close.
Every time they circled, her wolf surged forward instinctively, matching his movements, anticipating them. It was like they were magnetized, drawn into each other’s rhythm. And Kade—damn him—noticed.
“Your footwork’s better,” he murmured as they grappled, his breath hot against her neck. “More fluid.”
She gritted her teeth. “Shut up and fight.”
He smirked, swept her legs.
She hit the mat hard, the wind knocked from her lungs.
Kade offered a hand.
She ignored it, rolling to her feet. “Again.”
His eyes gleamed. “You’re relentless.”
She met his gaze. “You’re not the only one with something to prove.”
That seemed to land.
He stepped back into stance, and this time, didn’t go easy on her.
***
Later, in the locker room, Aria peeled off her training shirt with trembling fingers, the sting of bruises and sweat making her wince. She checked to make sure no one else was in the room, then quickly unwrapped the tight bindings across her chest.
The ache there had become a constant companion. Each breath stretched sore ribs. Each day it grew harder to keep the bindings tight enough to hide her body—and now, harder still to ignore the part of her that longed to be seen.
But that was suicide.
Letting Kade see her like this?
She shook her head and grabbed a clean shirt.
Just as the door creaked open.
She turned—too late.
Kade stood in the doorway, frozen.
His eyes locked onto the bare curve of her shoulder, then the unmistakable dip of her waist, the flash of soft skin where her chest bindings had come undone.
He didn’t blink.
Neither did she.
Aria’s heart slammed against her ribs.
Kade opened his mouth—then closed it.
“I—” he began.
“Get out,” she snapped, voice sharp as broken glass.
He didn’t move.
“Now, Kade.”
Something flickered in his face—shock, confusion, anger—but he nodded once and stepped out, closing the door behind him.
Aria stood there, trembling, her breathing ragged.
She’d made a mistake.
A fatal one.
***
He didn’t come back to the dorm that night.
Aria sat awake for hours, waiting. Listening.
When dawn finally bled through the windows, she was still sitting there, legs pulled to her chest, eyes burning with the sting of sleeplessness and regret.
The door creaked open.
Kade stepped in.
His expression unreadable. But there was no judgment in his eyes. No revulsion. Just... something quieter. Something more dangerous.
He sat on the edge of his bed and looked at her.
Long and hard.
“You’re not Ari,” he said at last.
She said nothing.
“You’re not a boy.”
Still nothing.
“You’ve been hiding since day one.” He shook his head slowly. “No. Longer than that. Hiding your scent. Your voice. Your self.”
Aria finally looked at him. “So what are you going to do?”
He met her gaze. “What do you think I’m going to do?”
“Report me,” she said flatly. “Tell them I lied. That I don’t belong here.”
Kade stood, took two slow steps toward her.
“Is that what you want me to do?”
“No,” she whispered.
He stopped in front of her.
“Then tell me who you are.”
She closed her eyes.
When she opened them, her voice shook.
“My name is Aria Velen.”
He exhaled, long and slow. “The Alpha’s daughter?”
She nodded. “I was promised to someone I didn’t choose. To a life I didn’t want. I ran. I hid. I changed everything just to stay free.”
Kade’s jaw flexed, his eyes storm-dark. “And the academy?”
“It was the only place he wouldn’t look for me. He’d never believe I’d come here—pretending to be what I can’t be.”
Kade looked away, ran a hand through his hair. “You’re risking your life.”
“I know.”
He looked back at her, and something in his voice cracked.
“You should’ve told me.”
She blinked. “Why?”
“Because I would’ve protected you.”
She stood, fists clenched. “You didn’t even know me.”
“I knew enough.”
The silence between them stretched—raw, heavy, and full of things unspoken.
Finally, he stepped closer, gently taking her hand.
“I don’t care what anyone else says,” he said. “You do belong here. With or without a title. Or a name. Or a disguise.”
Her breath caught.
His thumb brushed across her knuckles.
“And if the bond is real... you don’t have to run anymore.”
Tears burned her eyes.
She didn’t cry.
But she wanted to.
- Writer
