Aerion
After dropping Arya and her son, I was back at my house. I sat on the couch with a beer in my hands, staring at it as though it might hold the answers to the questions I had. My leg bounced up and down as if it had a mind of its own, and no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t sit still.
Drakos stirred in the back of my mind, restless too. “You’re working yourself up.”
“I can’t help it,” I replied under my breath.
“We spent the night with our mate and her son. It’s a good thing, Aerion. Enjoy it instead of letting your overthinking ruin it.”
I shook my head. “It’s not that simple, Drakos. Everything about Arya feels like a riddle I can’t solve.”
Spending time with Arya and Ethan had been unexpected but oddly comforting.
“She’s ours, but she’s holding back. I don’t like it.”
