CHAPTER 157: TELL ME ABOUT YOURSELF

Andria’s POV

I stared at him, torn between amusement and disbelief. "You’re unbelievable."

"And yet, you’re still standing here."

He wasn’t wrong. The truth was, Aven had a kind of gravity I couldn’t fight. He was both warmth and storm, the sort of contradiction that made you want to step closer even when you knew you shouldn’t.

But deep inside, I was troubled. I had nowhere to stay for the holidays, I couldn’t go back to the Falcons, and I sure can’t stay with the Alpha successors.

Then I remembered Lady Eskareth. We had a lot to talk about, and maybe I would ask if it were possible for me to spend the holidays in her home.

I brushed off the worry, and I smiled faintly. "I’ll think about it."

"That’s not a no?" he asked, his face laced with anxiety.

"It’s not a yes either."

"Progress," he said, grinning.

By then, we had reached his dorm. He stopped in front of the door and turned to me, expression softening. "Come in for a bit?"

I raised an eyebrow. "You think that’s a good idea?"

"Probably not," he admitted. "But I would like it anyway."

I hesitated, already knowing where this would lead. But curiosity and maybe something dangerously close to longing won.

"Fine," I said, stepping inside.

The dorm was quieter than I expected. There were no Tristan or Damon, and I don’t recall seeing any of them in the show hall.

"Where are the others?" I asked, scanning the room.

"Tristan went home for family business," he said, tossing his jacket onto the couch. "Damon is at the talent show. He is going to perform."

"Damon?" I blinked. "As in, the nonchalant Damon?"

Aven laughed. "Yes, that Damon. Turns out he sings very well."

I couldn’t hide my surprise. "Now, that I’ve got to see someday."

"You’d like it," Aven said. "He’s got this melodic voice that, when he sings, you just get wrapped in the emotions, you wouldn’t ever believe that he could hurt a fly, not to mention tearing things apart."

I smirked. "Charming, and unexpected."

He sat on the couch, motioning for me to join him. I hesitated for a second before sitting, leaving a deliberate space between us.

"So," I said, crossing my legs. "What’s this really about, Aven?"

He leaned back, eyes tracing my face. "Maybe I just want to talk to my mate, is that too much?. You never talk about yourself, Ari."

"That’s because there’s not much to tell."

"I doubt that," he said softly. "You have that look. Like someone who has lived through more storms than most wolves can imagine."

I looked down, fingers fidgeting with the hem of my sleeve. He couldn’t be more accurate, but he can’t know exactly who I am, a wolf with no origin, a vampire with no origin, a hybrid. "Well, storms make good teachers."

"They also make good liars and killers ."

I met his gaze again, that familiar ache tugging in my chest. "Maybe I could be all of that, but I chose to be Aria, the council president, who sticks out her head to make sure every student is happy and safe from the bullies."

For a while, he said nothing. Then he began to talk slowly, like someone carefully opening old wounds.

He told me about his childhood, the military stronghold, and the way he met Tristan and Damon when they were just kids.

How the first war shaped them, how it hardened them and stole pieces of their innocence.

"I was fourteen when I fought my first battle," he said quietly. "Fourteen, and I thought bravery meant never being afraid. I didn’t realize that sometimes, it just means surviving.

I saw many of my father’s officials die. The vampires were strong; some Dravaris weren’t even strong enough to fight them. I had a potion by an old witch.

I still don’t know where that witch is or what her name was, but she was strong, probably the only surviving witch in this kingdom."

There was sadness in his voice, but also pride, the kind that comes from scars earned the hard way.

I listened, really listened, to every word. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him about my own childhood, the nightmares, the loneliness, the endless search for belonging, the betrayals from the family I fought so hard for.

My past wasn’t a story worth telling, but my future will be, so that when I talk about my past, I’ll say it with the same pride as Aven.

When he looked at me again, his eyes were softer. "You don’t have to hide with me, you know."

I smiled faintly. "I’m not hiding anything from you; you had such a sad, and also beautiful, adventurous childhood, but I didn’t have any childhood at all."

He leaned closer, and the air between us shifted, heavier and charged. His hand brushed against mine, tentative but deliberate.

"It’s just the two of us, there’s nothing to hide, whenever you feel like telling these things that were the storms of your childhood, I’ll be here to listen," he murmured.

My breath caught. He said the right words; who could have known that Aven had this soft side to him?

I should have pulled away, I should have said something sharp, witty, something that would shatter the tension. But instead, I stayed still, breathing in his overwhelming scent.

And when his lips touched mine, it was slow and deliberate, the kind of kiss that asked rather than demanded.

Warmth spread through me, soft but consuming me even more than I had felt the previous night. Aven was a good kisser, I must admit. Kaelric’s kiss demanded, seduced and brought flames; it felt like protection and possession. Aven’s kiss felt like freedom and warmth, making me want to ask for more.

For a moment, I let myself forget everything that had happened between Aven and me. I wanted to be lost in his kiss.

I forgot Liara’s betrayal, my lonely, sad life, my identity crisis. At that moment, it was just Aven and me, tangled in a kiss.

When we finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against mine.

"You have no idea what you do to me, Ari."

Athena grew restless and excited within me; it felt as though she wanted this even more than I did.

I exhaled shakily, forcing a smirk. "I could say the same, but your ego doesn’t need more food."

He chuckled, thumb brushing my jaw. "Too late for that."

We stared at ourselves for a while, the silence speaking so loudly. My heart hammered against my chest.

Aven stood up and, with one smooth motion, lifted me. He carried me as if I weighed nothing in bridal style.

My cheeks were flushed, and then he whispered, "Let’s go somewhere more private."

I nodded, and he carried me into his room and laid me on his bed. He hung over me for a while, staring into my eyes lustfully.

"The things I’m going to do to you."