ARIEL
Sterling perched on the edge of the couch, with his shirt unbuttoned and in a puddle around his torso.
The gash on his shoulder ran down half of his back.
I knelt beside him and rummaged through the first aid kit on the table.
Gauze, scissors, tape. The antiseptic bottle clinked as I grabbed it.
With trembling hands, I dabbed some on the open wound.
When I pressed the soaked cotton to his torn flesh, his whole body tensed. The damp cotton came away crimson. My stomach twisted. He didn’t flinch, but the rigid line of his shoulders screamed louder than any curse. This wasn’t just pain. This was pride.
“I know it stings. Sorry,” I murmured.
“Don’t be.” Brown eyes meeting mine. “I’ve had worse.”
I didn’t doubt it. The scars that mapped his chest and back told stories I wasn’t ready to read. But the fresh wound that I watched him take while protecting me was different. It was mine to tend to.
I finished cleaning the cut and reached for the bandages. My hands were still shaking, but I forced myself to focus. “You’re lucky it’s not deeper.”
“Lucky,” he echoed dryly. “That’s one word for it.”
I glanced up at him. “You could’ve been hurt worse. Or—”
“Or what?” he asked.
“Or killed,” I whispered, the words catching in my throat. “Rafe wasn’t holding back.”
Sterling’s expression softened. Warm hands engulfed mine. “I’m fine, Ariel. You’re safe. That’s what matters.”
I nodded, but I couldn’t help but worry. Rafe’s attack had been a stark reminder that his family wasn’t going to let him go. And now, with the media storm brewing, it felt like the world was against us.
My phone screen lit up with a notification. I glanced at it and my stomach sank. More gossip headlines about Sterling. About me.
I’d spent years clawing my way up, rejection after rejection piling up in my inbox.
Every email chipped away at my confidence, but I kept going.
And now I was reduced to a tongue-wagging headline.
Gold-digging hussy. The words stung more than I wanted to admit.
All those nights hunched over my laptop.
All the cheap canned noodle soup dinners when rent was due.
None of it mattered. To the world, I was a gold-digger.
Sterling grabbed the phone from my grip. “Don’t read that garbage.”
“It’s not garbage if it’s everywhere,” I said, my voice hollow. “They’re digging into my past, Sterling. My rejections, my failures. it’s all out there now.” My thumb hovered over a particularly vicious comment.
He cursed under his breath. “These people don’t know you. They don’t know your fire. Your goddamn talent.”
“But they think they do,” I whispered. “And that’s what sticks. I’ve spent my whole life trying to prove myself as a writer, and now they’re making me out to be some kind of opportunist.”
Sterling’s expression darkened. He stood, pulling me to my feet with him. “You’re not an opportunist, Ariel. You’re the most talented, determined person I’ve ever met. And I’m not going to let them tear you down.”
His words should have comforted me, but the judgment of the world still hurt. “Sterling, this isn’t just about me. It’s about you, too. Your reputation, your business, everything you’ve built. I can’t be the reason it all falls apart.”
He cupped my face in his hands, his calloused fingers caressing my cheeks. “Ariel, stop. Listen to me. You’re not the reason for any of this. My family’s mess, the media, none of it is your fault. And I’m not going to let them win. Not this time.”
I wanted to believe him. “What’s your game plan?”
“We’re going to face the rumors head-on. Shut them down before they have time to spread,” he said. “I’m sick of running away from their attacks.”
His thumb traced the curve of my jaw. “We’ll continue your work. The novel, the articles, everything. People will see that your talent isn’t just a means to an end.”
His confidence in me was inspiring, but I knew it wasn’t going to be as easy as he made it out to be. “The media’s relentless. They’ll find a way to twist our words and turn our actions against us.”
Sterling pulled me closer, and I buried my face against his chest, letting the steady beat of his heart comfort my fears. “Then we’ll face them head-on. We’ll give them nothing to twist.”
I looked at him and wished that I could have just a fraction of the conviction I saw reflected in his eyes.
The next morning, paparazzi swarmed like vultures outside of Sterling’s office.
Cameras flashed, a blinding strobe of bright light that made it impossible to see where I was walking as I ducked my head and dodged their questions.
We should have taken the back exit, I thought.
Too late now. I wanted to push them out of the way, to scratch and claw my way through the crowd, but it would only end up as tabloid fodder.
“Mr.Nightfang, is it true your family is involved in illegal activities? What does that mean for your business empire?”
“Ariel! Gold-digging bitch, look here!”
I froze, the words a shock to my system. Sterling’s grip tightened on my elbow, whether it was to steady me or himself, I couldn’t tell.
“Enough!” His voice ripped through the crowd, dominant and filled with barely-leashed violence.
The swarm fell silent for a heartbeat. Then came the growl.
I met Sterling’s eyes, and the force of what I saw there nearly knocked the air from my lungs.
It wasn’t just anger. There was something primal.
A possessive fire that took my breath away.
This was the anger of a wolf one second away form tearing out throats.
His voice, when it came, was almost a low snarl.
“Ariel Hayes is the best damn writer I have ever worked with. She is not only my ghostwriter, she is the only reason why this project exists.” He wrapped his arm around my waist, his fingers drifting down to my hip as he held me tight.
Making it clear that I was his to protect.
His words sent a ripple through the crowd, the reporters exchanging uneasy glances. I felt a surge of pride and gratitude, but it was quickly overshadowed by the fear of what this would mean for him. For us.
One reporter, undeterred, stepped forward. “Mr.Nightfang, what about your family’s alleged involvement in criminal activities? How do you respond to those claims?”
Sterling bared his teeth. He was about to lose his temper and make a mess of things.
Enough was enough. I beat him to it. “Sterling has worked tirelessly to build his own legacy. One that is separate from his family’s past. He’s not defined by their actions, and to imply that he is guilty by association is a witch hunt.
If you’re looking for a scandal, you’re looking in the wrong place.
Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have work to do. ”
A flicker of pride flashed in Sterling’s eyes. He took my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as we pushed through the crowd. Once inside, Sterling pulled me aside. “You were amazing.”
Was I? Now that we were out of the spotlight, I could feel my heart racing. “I don’t know what came over me.”
For a moment, I thought he might kiss me right there in the crowded office lobby. His thumb traced my jawline, but before I could respond, his phone rang. My cheeks flushed with heat as the spell was broken.
“Sterling,” he barked into the phone. His expression hardened as his eyes flicked over to me before he hung up.
I frowned. “Is everything okay?”
Sterling was already guiding me to the elevator. “It’s Dean. He’s waiting for us upstairs.”
We found Dean in Sterling’s office. A cardboard box sat on the desk. “She’s making a move. This was delivered to my place an hour ago.”
I looked on curiously as Sterling tore it open.
His expression darkened as he pulled out the shredded soccer jersey.
It was black and green, his old team’s colors.
I could barely make out the number 9 under the blood stains and the large gashes.
There was something else inside the box under the jersey.
I peered around Sterling and gasped. It was one of my notebooks.
Rafe must have taken it when he tore apart my hotel room.
Like the jersey, it was covered in dried blood and looked like it had been gnawed on by a rabid dog.
Sterling slammed the jersey into the box and threw the whole thing across the room. “Fucking bitch is threatening Ariel too.”
Dean shook his head. “It’s not just threats. Mother’s got your scent. You know how she gets once she has her jaws on something.”
My stomach twisted.
Dean’s eyes flicked from me and then to his brother. “You know what you have to do. There’s no way out unless you end this for good.”
I froze at his words. “What does that mean, Sterling?”
The muscle in his jaw ticked and he paced the room twice before stopping. “I’m not going to let her dictate this for me too.”
Dean scoffed. “You don’t have a choice, little bro. Mother won’t back down unless you make it clear that Ariel is under your protection as your mate.”
“Mate?” I whispered.
Sterling’s eyes snapped to mine. The raw emotion in his gaze knocked me back. It was feral, possessive.
I wasn’t completely sure what being the mate of a wolf involved, but at that moment, I knew that I was willing to risk it. “I’ll do it. Dean’s right. You can’t keep playing defense. The ball’s in your court now, Sterling.”
He stopped pacing. For a moment, he just stared at me with an unreadable expression. Then, just as I was going to ask him if I had toilet paper stuck to my forehead, he crossed the room in two strides. He cupped my face. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
I managed a shaky laugh. “So I’ve been told.”