The bass of the music thumped through the walls, a heartbeat pulsing in time with the flashing neon lights. Aria wasn’t supposed to be here. Well, technically, she never planned on it. But Mia had that look in her eyes—the one that meant no wasn’t an acceptable answer.

“Come on, Aria! You’re twenty now, let’s do something reckless for once!” Mia had practically dragged her through the entrance of The Hollow, an exclusive underground club hidden beneath the streets of the city.

Aria rolled her eyes but smiled. “I don’t do reckless. I do calculated risks.”

“Yeah, yeah. Consider this a calculated risk then.”

Inside, the air was thick with energy—people dancing, bodies moving in a hypnotic rhythm. The club had an almost illicit feel, the kind of place where secrets were whispered and inhibitions were left at the door. Aria had been to normal clubs before, but this was different.

She adjusted her tight black dress—Mia had picked it out, claiming Aria needed to “look like a sin waiting to happen.” Despite herself, Aria felt a little thrill at the attention she was getting. The usual version of her was all about control, discipline, and keeping her emotions in check. But tonight? Maybe she could loosen up.

Then she saw him.

He was leaning against the bar, a drink in one hand, the other casually tucked into his pocket. The kind of man you couldn’t ignore if you tried. Dark, brooding, and radiating an energy that made the air feel heavier. His black shirt stretched over broad shoulders, and his sharp jawline was framed by just the right amount of stubble. But it was his eyes that did her in—piercing, intense, as if he could see right through her.

Aria wasn’t the type to be easily flustered, but there was something about him that made her pulse race. She turned to Mia. “Who is that?”

Mia followed her gaze and let out a low whistle. “Damn. No idea, but you should definitely go talk to him.”

“I don’t do that.”

Mia rolled her eyes. “And yet you’re still staring.”

Aria huffed. Maybe it was the atmosphere. Maybe it was the way his gaze locked onto hers like a silent challenge. Either way, her feet moved before she could think twice.

By the time she reached the bar, he was still watching her, his lips quirking slightly—like he knew exactly what effect he had on her.

“Can I buy you a drink?” His voice was deep, smooth, effortlessly confident.

Aria arched a brow. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?”

His smirk widened. “I don’t think you’ve ever used that line in your life.”

She bit back a laugh. “Fair point.”

He motioned for the bartender. “Vodka?”

“Whiskey.” She wasn’t the girly cocktail type.

That seemed to amuse him. “Interesting.”

They talked—well, mostly bantered. He was sharp, flirtatious, but there was something unreadable about him. Something dangerous.

“What’s your name?” she asked finally.

For the briefest moment, hesitation flickered in his eyes, but then he answered. “Lucian.”

Lucian. It suited him.

The next thing she knew, they were dancing. Close, too close. His hands on her waist, his breath against her ear. The club faded into the background—there was only him, only this moment.

And when he leaned in, when their lips finally met, Aria stopped thinking altogether.

Tonight, she could be reckless. Just this once.

---

Aria woke up to an empty bed.

The sheets were cool beside her, the only proof that last night had happened at all. No note, no phone number. Just the lingering scent of him on her skin.

Well. That was that, then.

Aria wasn’t the type to get attached, and maybe it was for the best. Whoever Lucian really was, he didn’t seem like the stay-for-breakfast kind of guy.

She shook it off and got back to her routine even if her mind can't stop thinking about him. Trying to do work, classes... Everything went back to normal—except for the tiny, nagging feeling in her chest. She ignored it.

Until, a month later, she couldn’t ignore it anymore.

It started with nausea. Then exhaustion. Then the realization that she was late.

No. It wasn’t possible.

But three pregnancy tests later, the reality hit her like a freight train.

...

“Oh, shit.”

Mia nearly dropped her coffee when Aria told her. “Wait—Lucian? The insanely hot guy from the club?”

Aria groaned. “Yes.”

“And you didn’t get his last name?”

"Something like Devereaux maybe? I searched it when I was trying to.. You know"

Mia blinke, andWell… damn, He is famous... Well known in the industry"

"I know and I don't care, I can take of this baby without his fucking help"

Mia agreed. " Yes, but be careful Aria, if you need, don't forget that I am always here "

Aria hugged her. "Thank you"

...

Aria had spent her whole life planning, controlling, making sure she had everything figured out. But this? This was the one thing she never saw coming.

Then, as if the universe wasn’t done messing with her, she saw him again.

She was walking home when she felt it—that strange sensation of being watched. And then he was there, stepping out of the shadows like he had always belonged in them.

Lucian.

Her heart slammed against her ribs. He looked the same, except… there was something different in his expression. A quiet intensity.

“You,” she breathed.

His eyes flickered down to her stomach, and for the first time, she saw something close to shock cross his features.

Then he stepped closer, voice low and unwavering.

“You’re mine.”

Her head spun. “Excuse me?”

Lucian’s jaw clenched. “I should have known. I felt it that night. You’re my mate.”

Mate? What the hell was he talking about?

Aria took a step back, heart pounding. “I don’t know what kind of weird possessive game you’re playing, but—”

He caught her wrist—gently, but firm. His eyes burned into hers, something primal, something raw.

“This isn’t a game, Aria.” His voice dropped, almost reverent. “You’re carrying my child. And now that I’ve found you again… I’m never letting you go.”

Aria’s breath caught. Because despite every logical part of her screaming to run—deep down, she knew.

Her life would never be normal again.

--

Aria yanked her wrist free, her skin burning from where he had touched her.

“Okay, let’s back up a second,” she said, voice tight. “You disappear after a one-night stand, I find out I’m pregnant, and now you’re here saying—what? That I belong to you?”

Lucian didn’t even flinch. His stare was unyielding, intense. “Yes.”

Aria laughed. Not a haha this-is-funny laugh, but the kind that came out when your brain refused to process sheer insanity. “That’s not how this works. That’s not how any of this works.”

Lucian took a slow step forward. She should have run. Should have bolted in the opposite direction. But something about him—something about the way he looked at her—kept her frozen.

“You don’t understand,” he murmured, his voice lower now, softer. “I felt it that night. You did too.”

She swallowed hard, refusing to acknowledge the truth in his words. That night had been different. He had been different.

“Lucian,” she started, carefully choosing her words, “I don’t know what weird, old-fashioned possessive fantasy you’re living in, but—”

His hand lifted, just a fraction, as if he wanted to touch her. Then, almost like he thought better of it, he clenched his fist instead.

“This isn’t a fantasy,” he said. “It’s real. And whether you believe it or not, you are my mate.”

Mate. He kept saying that word like it meant something more than just a hookup gone wrong.

Aria folded her arms. “Oh really? And what exactly does that mean?”

Lucian’s jaw tightened. “It means,” he said slowly, “that you and I are bound together. That this isn’t chance. That you—” his eyes flickered to her stomach, and something almost reverent crossed his face “—are carrying my heir.”

Heir. Oh hell no.

Aria threw up her hands. “Alright, buddy, that’s enough.” She took a step back, forcing herself to breathe. “Look, I don’t know what kind of medieval nonsense you’re spouting, but I don’t belong to anyone. Least of all someone who couldn’t even bother to leave a damn phone number.”

Something flickered in Lucian’s expression. Guilt? No, something darker.

“I stayed away for a reason,” he admitted, voice low.

Aria scoffed. “Right. And now you’re back, ready to play ‘Happy Family’? No thanks.”

Lucian’s nostrils flared. “You don’t get it,” he said, stepping closer—too close. The air between them crackled with tension. “You think you had a choice in all this? You didn’t. Neither of us did.”

She frowned. “What the hell does that mean?”

Lucian exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face, as if debating something. Then, finally, he met her gaze.

“It means,” he said, “that I’m not human.”

Silence.

Aria blinked. Once. Twice. Then she laughed.

“Okay,” she said, still laughing. “Now I know you’re crazy.”

Lucian didn’t smile. Didn’t waver.

And that’s when it hit her.

He wasn’t joking.

The air between them shifted. Aria’s stomach twisted—not just from fear, but from something deeper. Some primal instinct inside her whispered that he was telling the truth.

Lucian took another step forward. His voice was low, intimate, like a secret meant only for her.

“I’m a werewolf, Aria.”

Aria’s breath caught.

Lucian tilted his head, watching her reaction carefully. “And whether you’re ready or not… you are mine.”

---

End of Chapter 3.