Aria Westbrook stood behind the counter of Westbrook’s Flowers, carefully trimming the edges of a bouquet of wildflowers. The scent of jasmine and lavender filled the small, cozy shop, and the soft hum of the bell above the door jingled as it opened. Aria didn’t look up. She had long since learned to ignore the daily comings and goings of customers. Lunar Falls was a small town, and her shop was a quiet sanctuary in the heart of it, offering a slice of beauty amidst the mundane. She didn’t mind the solitude. In fact, she preferred it.

The bell chimed again, followed by the sound of footsteps entering. A man’s voice, low and steady, broke the silence.

“Excuse me,” he said, the words laced with a faint hint of hesitation.

Aria’s fingers paused on the flowers, but she didn’t raise her gaze. She had heard his footsteps the moment he entered. There was something about the rhythm of them, something deliberate and sure. She knew he was tall, broad-shouldered—his presence unmistakable even without the visual confirmation. The air around him felt heavy, weighted with something that she couldn’t quite place.

It was the same feeling she had gotten earlier when he’d walked through the square. The unsettling tug at the back of her mind, the way her pulse quickened when their eyes had met. She had brushed it off then, dismissing it as nothing more than a random encounter. But standing there, with him now in her shop, the feeling grew stronger. The sensation of being watched, of being felt, made her skin prickle with unease.

She finally lifted her eyes to meet his.

There he was—tall, dark-haired, with those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see through her, as if he could read her very soul. His silver hair was neatly swept back, his expression guarded. And yet, there was something undeniably magnetic about him. Something she couldn’t explain, and frankly, didn’t want to try.

“What can I help you with?” she asked, her tone cool and businesslike.

The man hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking to the flowers in front of her, then back to her face. He seemed momentarily lost in thought, as though he had expected something different from this encounter.

“I need some flowers,” he said, his voice smooth but tinged with an edge of uncertainty, as though the act of purchasing something so simple was somehow beneath him. “Something that will… stand out.”

Aria raised an eyebrow. He didn’t strike her as the type who would bother with flowers unless there was a reason behind it. But then again, she had long since stopped trying to figure out the motivations of the people who passed through her door. In a place like Lunar Falls, everyone had their secrets. She didn’t need to know his.

She gestured to the assortment of arrangements on the counter. “These are the freshest. I can make a custom bouquet if you have something specific in mind.”

The man studied the flowers for a moment, his brow furrowed slightly as he scanned the options. Aria could see the tension in his posture, the way his fingers twitched as though he were about to reach out but was holding himself back. Something about his energy didn’t sit right with her. He seemed… contained, like a storm waiting to break free. She felt a prickle of unease coil in her stomach.

But she couldn’t place why.

Finally, he chose a bouquet of deep red roses, their petals rich and velvety, the color of fire. “I’ll take these,” he said, his voice steady, though there was a trace of something else—something that Aria couldn’t quite decipher. “And I’ll need them wrapped.”

Aria nodded, moving swiftly to prepare the bouquet. As she worked, she could feel his eyes on her. Not overtly, not in a way that would make her uncomfortable, but in a subtle, almost invisible way, like a constant presence in the room. She could tell he was watching, and it made her want to hurry. She wasn’t used to people scrutinizing her.

The silence stretched between them as she finished wrapping the flowers. Her hands moved with practiced precision, but in the back of her mind, she kept thinking about him—the stranger who seemed so familiar, yet entirely foreign. She had felt that connection when their gazes had met earlier. That strange, electric jolt, the kind she had only ever felt once before in her life. But that had been a long time ago, a memory she had buried deep beneath layers of rejection and pain. She couldn’t afford to entertain thoughts of that kind of connection again.

“There you go,” she said, handing him the wrapped bouquet, her voice light but distant.

He took the flowers from her with a slight nod, his fingers brushing hers just for a second. The contact sent a shock through her, and she quickly pulled her hand back, suppressing the instinctive shiver that crawled up her spine. Her pulse quickened, and for a moment, she had the urge to apologize for nothing at all. She blinked, trying to focus, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in her chest that threatened to overwhelm her.

“Thank you,” the man said, his voice low and steady again. There was something oddly formal about it, as if he were speaking through a mask, carefully controlling every word.

Aria forced herself to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You're welcome.”

He turned to leave, but as he reached for the door, he paused, glancing over his shoulder. His gaze met hers again—more intense this time, as if he were searching for something in her eyes.

“Do I know you?” he asked, his voice soft, almost as if he was speaking to himself.

Aria felt a chill run through her at the question. It was a simple inquiry, but something about it felt too probing, too close to something she wasn’t ready to confront. She shook her head, forcing her face into a neutral expression.

“I don’t think so,” she replied, her voice colder than she intended.

The man lingered for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before he nodded slowly and stepped out the door. Aria watched him leave, her heart still racing, her breath uneven. She felt an odd sense of relief wash over her, but it was mixed with something else—a lingering sense of unease, of unfinished business.

For the rest of the day, the memory of his eyes, that unspoken connection, haunted her. She tried to shake it off, to focus on the work in front of her, but no matter how much she tried to concentrate, she kept coming back to him.

There was something about him. Something she couldn’t explain.

Something that felt far too familiar.

That evening, after the shop had closed and the sun dipped below the horizon, Aria sat at her small kitchen table, a cup of tea cooling in front of her. The house was quiet—too quiet, in fact. She had grown accustomed to the solitude, but tonight it felt oppressive. The silence pressed in on her from all sides, reminding her of just how alone she truly was.

Her thoughts kept returning to the man from the flower shop. Damon Knight. His name had lodged itself in her mind, a single word she couldn’t shake off.

She had felt it—the connection. The bond. The unmistakable pull of fate. It was the same sensation that had once tethered her to her family, the same pull she had resisted for years.

Her heart clenched. She had sworn to never let anyone in again. Not after what her family had done to her. Not after the way they had abandoned her when she refused to conform. She had built her life in Lunar Falls on her own terms, free from the constraints of her past. She wasn’t about to throw all of that away for some mysterious wolf with intense blue eyes.

Aria set her cup down with a soft clink and rubbed her temples, trying to block out the lingering thoughts of Damon. She couldn’t afford to go down this path. Not again.

But deep down, she knew that this was far from over.

And no matter how much she tried to ignore it, that bond was only going to grow stronger.