0103

Lia’s POV

The drive back to Finn's pack was tense and silent. Every bump on the road felt like a reminder of the conversation I’d had with Luca. The look in his eyes haunted me, as did the uncertainty that still clawed at my heart. Yet, here I was, making this choice. Choosing Finn.

As the car pulled up to the grand stone entrance of Finn’s estate, I took a deep breath, steadying myself. We stepped out of the car, and before I could fully gather my thoughts, I turned to Finn, unable to contain my frustration.

“Why did you follow me?” I asked the edge in my voice surprising even me. “I don’t remember telling you to tail me.”

Finn raised an eyebrow, his expression hardening as he looked at me. “I have to know you’re serious about this, Lia. I’m not about to let myself get played.” His tone was calm but firm, his words hitting a nerve.

I folded my arms, narrowing my gaze at him. “You think I’m playing games?” I shot back, feeling a mix of indignation and something else—something more vulnerable, though I’d never admit it. “If I didn’t want this, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be doing any of this.”

He sighed, the tension on his face momentarily easing. “Maybe. But I need to be sure. And you haven’t exactly made that easy.”

Just as the words left his mouth, I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. Myles was standing by the main entrance, watching us with a curious yet unreadable expression. I could only imagine what he thought, witnessing us throwing daggers at each other with our eyes. I glanced upward and saw Finn’s sister standing on the balcony, her gaze piercing and calculating as she watched the exchange between Finn and me. A chill ran through me, though I couldn’t tell if it was from the cool evening air or something else entirely.

Finn’s voice brought me back. “I need to be certain, Lia,” he said, his tone softer now. “I can’t afford to get this wrong. Not again.”

I looked away, staring at the grand archway that led into the house. The doubts I’d buried were surfacing, threatening to pull me under. He didn’t trust me—not completely, anyway. And why would he? Our whole situation was built on fragile ground, held together by decisions I couldn’t quite understand myself.

“Fine,” I replied, exhaling slowly. “But maybe next time, don’t sneak around and follow me. If you want to know something, ask.” I hesitated, my gaze hardening as I met his eyes again. “And while we’re on the subject, going to the library with your cousin? That’s… suspicious. Maybe next time I’d like to tag along.”

Finn’s face went blank, and he didn’t respond. He just held my gaze, his expression as unreadable as ever. After a long, tense silence, he simply turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, the unspoken words between us feeling heavier than ever.

I watched him go, feeling a strange emptiness settle over me. The desire to trust him, to believe in the life I was trying to build here, clashed with the nagging voice in the back of my mind that reminded me of everything we’d both been through. We were bound by necessity, by choices that had already been made, but was that enough?

As I walked into the house, my gaze drifted around the hall, its grand yet cold beauty somehow mirroring the unease within me. The ache in my heart grew sharper as I thought of my son, the one person who had given my life meaning through all the chaos. Being here, trapped in this confusing situation, away from him—it was more painful than I’d imagined.

I forced myself to hold my head high as I moved through the house, even though I was painfully aware of the eyes following me, the silent judgment from Finn’s family, his pack, even from Myles and his sister. To them, I was an outsider. A stranger with questionable motives.

And yet, I’d made my choice. I’d decided to be here, and tomorrow… tomorrow I would make sure I saw my son, no matter what it took.

Later that evening, as I wandered through the vast, empty halls, I found myself drawn to the small parlor at the end of the corridor. The room was quiet and dimly lit, the flickering light of a single candle casting soft shadows on the walls. I sank into the armchair by the window, allowing myself a moment to breathe, to feel the emotions I’d been bottling up all day.

I closed my eyes, imagining my son’s face, his laughter, the warmth of his tiny hands in mine. My chest tightened, a tear slipping down my cheek before I could stop it. I’d missed him more than I could bear, and being here, in this unfamiliar place, made that ache all the more unbearable.

The soft click of a door opening made me look up, and I quickly brushed away the tear. Finn’s sister entered, her expression unreadable as she took a few steps into the room.

“Lia, isn’t it?” she asked, her voice cool, yet oddly polite.

I nodded, studying her carefully. She was beautiful, her features sharp and elegant, with the same piercing eyes as her brother. I could tell she was assessing me, and I met her gaze steadily, refusing to show any hint of vulnerability.

“Welcome,” she said after a pause. “I suppose I should officially greet you, seeing as you’re… Finn’s guest.” The way she said it, with a slight hint of hesitation, made me realize she wasn’t quite sure how to define my presence here.

“Thank you,” I replied, keeping my voice steady. “I appreciate it.”

She offered a small, almost reluctant smile. “I hope you find your time here… worthwhile,” she said, her words carefully chosen. “Our family isn’t accustomed to outsiders, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. It takes time to build trust.”

I nodded, understanding the unspoken message. She was warning me, in her own way, to tread carefully, to be mindful of the delicate balance in this place.

“I understand,” I said quietly, meeting her gaze with as much confidence as I could muster. “I’m not here to disrupt anything. I just want to build a life, a place for myself and…” My voice trailed off as I hesitated, not wanting to reveal too much.

She seemed to notice, her eyes softening slightly. “Your son,” she murmured, her tone surprisingly gentle. “I can only imagine how hard it must be to be away from him.”

The kindness in her words took me off guard, and for a moment, I felt a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was someone in this place who understood, who might support me.

“Yes,” I whispered, unable to hold back the emotion in my voice. “It’s… it’s difficult.”

She nodded, a hint of sympathy in her gaze. “Well, if there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask. And… good luck, Lia.” With that, she turned and walked out of the room, leaving me alone once more.

I stared at the closed door, her words echoing in my mind. “Good luck, Lia.” The warmth in her tone had been unexpected, a rare kindness in this cold, unfamiliar world. Maybe, against all odds, I’d find a way to belong here. Maybe, in time, I’d be able to carve out a place where I could feel safe, where I could be myself.

And tomorrow… tomorrow, I would see my son.