Claimed on Valentine's Day

CHAPTER 1 Claimed on Valentine’s Day Valentine’s Day was supposed to be about love. I stood outside the restaurant, my breath fogging the glass as I watched couples laugh and lean into one another, their hands tangled together like the world made sense for them. Red roses. Soft music. Promises wrapped in candlelight. I checked my phone again. Ryan: Running a little late, baby. Don’t go in without me. A small smile tugged at my lips despite the dull ache in my chest. I typed back a quick reply and slipped my phone into my coat pocket. I told myself the unease was just nerves. Valentine’s Day had a way of making expectations feel heavier. I pushed the door open. Warmth rushed over me;music, laughter, the clink of glasses. My eyes scanned the room immediately, searching for Ryan’s familiar face. I spotted his jacket near the back booth and felt relief bloom. Then I saw her. She sat across from him, leaning close, her fingers resting casually on his arm. Too casually. Ryan bent toward her, whispering something that made her smile. The smile he gave her in return was one I recognized far too well. My body went cold. For a moment, my mind refused to cooperate. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. I stood there, frozen, while the world kept moving around me. Ryan reached for her hand. Something inside my chest cracked. I don’t remember turning around. I don’t remember walking out. I only remember the cold night air slamming into me as if it were trying to wake me from a dream I couldn’t escape. I walked blindly down the street, heels clicking against the pavement, my vision blurred with tears. My phone vibrated in my pocket again and again, but I didn’t look. I couldn’t. I turned down a darker road, one where the streetlights thinned and the noise of the city softened. My breaths came out uneven, sharp in my chest. That was when the feeling hit me. The unmistakable awareness of being watched. I slowed, my heart pounding. The air felt heavier here, thicker, like the night itself was holding its breath. I glanced over my shoulder. Nothing. “Get it together, Aria,” I whispered. “You’re just upset.” I took another step. A low sound came from the alley to my left. Not loud. Not sudden. Controlled. I spun around. He stepped out of the shadows like he belonged there. Tall. Broad. Dressed in black, his presence swallowed the narrow street. The dim light caught his eyes and they glowed. Gold. Not reflected. Not imagined. Real. My breath caught painfully in my throat. He looked at me like he’d been searching for me his entire life. Slowly, deliberately, he inhaled and his expression changed. Hardened. Focused. Possessive. “Aria Collins,” he said. My name on his lips sent a shiver through my entire body. “I don’t know you,” I whispered, my legs trembling. His gaze never wavered as he took one step closer. Then another. He stopped just short of touching me, but his presence pressed in from every direction. “My name is Kael Blackthorne,” he said calmly. “Alpha Kael Blackthorne.” The word Alpha meant nothing to me. The way he said it meant everything. “You shouldn’t be alone tonight,” he continued. “Not now.” “I didn’t ask for your help.” “No,” he agreed. “You didn’t.” His eyes dropped briefly to my neck, then lifted again, burning. “But you’re mine,” he said, voice low and absolute. “And I protect what belongs to me.” Fear and something dangerously close to pull tangled inside me. Valentine’s Day was no longer about love. It was about fate. And fate had just found me.