Chapter 230 Who is it, Rick?
Damian’s POV
By the time the plane touched down at my private airfield in the capital, we’d both cleaned up and made ourselves presentable.
Aria’s hair was still slightly mussed, and there was a faint flush to her cheeks that made my wolf want to drag her right back into my arms, but otherwise, we looked like we’d spent the flight doing anything but what we’d actually been doing.
The door opened, and cool evening air rushed in. I stood first, offering Aria my hand, and she took it without hesitation.
The moment we stepped onto the tarmac, I spotted Rick waiting near one of the SUVs. He looked tense—jaw tight, shoulders stiff—and my body responded in kind.
Something was wrong.
"Alpha," Rick said as we approached, his voice carefully neutral. "Welcome back."
"Rick." I nodded to him, then turned to the pilot who’d brought us here—one of Ronan’s most trusted men. "Thank you for getting us here safely."
The pilot gave me a respectful nod. "Anytime, Alpha King. Ronan sends his regards."
"Tell him I appreciate everything he’s done."
"Will do. Safe travels, both of you."
I watched as he returned to the plane, then turned my attention back to Rick. "What’s the situation?"
"Everyone’s waiting for you at the pack house," Rick said quietly. "Your father, your mother, your grandmother, even your grandfather."
My jaw tightened. My grandfather—Aldric Blackwood—was the most stoic, reserved man I’d ever known. If he was waiting for me, it meant he was worried.
And Aldric Blackwood didn’t worry easily.
"Let’s not keep them waiting, then," I said, guiding Aria toward the SUV.
The drive back to the pack house was silent. Aria sat beside me, her hand clasped in mine, but I could feel the tension radiating off her. She knew something was coming. She just didn’t know what.
Neither did I.
When we pulled up to the pack house, the entire place was lit up like a beacon. Every window glowed with warm light, and I could see figures moving inside.
My family. My pack. All waiting.
I helped Aria out of the car and led her up the front steps. The moment we walked through the door, I was surrounded.
My mother reached me first, her arms wrapping around me in a fierce hug that made my ribs protest. "Damian. Thank the Moon Goddess you’re safe."
"I’m fine, Mom," I said quietly, hugging her back. "I’m okay."
She pulled away, her amber eyes scanning my face like she was cataloging every bruise and cut. "You look terrible."
"Thanks," I said dryly.
My father was next, his expression grim as he clasped my shoulder. "We need to talk. Soon."
"I know."
"Talk later. Let me see my grandson first."
My grandmother pushed past my father without ceremony, reaching up to take my face in both of her weathered hands. She turned it left, then right, her sharp eyes missing nothing—not the fading bruises, not the stitches above my brow.
"Skin and bones," she pronounced finally, patting my cheek. "They told me you fell into the sea. Foolish boy. Do you know how many candles I lit for you?"
"Sorry, Grandma," I said, and meant it.
"Hmph." She sniffed, but her eyes were suspiciously bright. Then she reached out and pulled Aria to her side, squeezing her hand. "Thank goodness you were with him, dear. "
And then, to my complete shock, my grandfather stepped forward.
Aldric Blackwood was in his eighties, but he moved with the strength and grace of a man half his age.
His silver hair was neatly combed, his posture ramrod straight, and his gray eyes—so similar to my own—were filled with something I rarely saw in him.
Relief.
"Damian," he said quietly, and then he did something he hadn’t done since I was a child.
He hugged me.
It was brief. Stiff. But it was there.
"Don’t scare us like that again," he said gruffly, pulling back.
I nodded, my throat suddenly tight. "I won’t."
His gaze shifted to Aria, and I saw his expression soften slightly. "Thank you for taking care of him these past days."
Aria looked momentarily stunned, but she recovered quickly. "It was my duty as his mate, Alpha Aldric."
"Aldric," my grandfather corrected. "We’re family now. No need for formalities."
I saw Aria’s eyes widen, and something warm settled in my chest.
My grandfather didn’t say things like that lightly. If he’d accepted her, it meant she was already part of the pack in his eyes.
"Thank you," Aria said softly.
Aldric nodded, then turned his attention back to me. "Rick tells me you’ll want to see the prisoner tonight."
My entire body went rigid. "He’s still alive?"
"For now." My grandfather’s voice was flat. "Though I can’t promise he’ll stay that way much longer if you keep him waiting."
I looked at Rick, who was standing near the doorway with his arms crossed. "Where is he?"
"In the holding cells below the east wing," Rick said quietly. "But Damian—" He hesitated. "I need you to prepare yourself. This isn’t going to be easy."
"I didn’t expect it to be."
Rick’s jaw tightened. "I’m serious. When you see who it is—" He stopped, shaking his head. "Just... try not to lose control."
My wolf stirred beneath my skin, restless and suspicious. "Who is it, Rick?"
"You’ll see." Rick’s voice was grim. "Come on. I’ll take you down."
I turned to Aria, who was watching me with wide, worried eyes. "Stay here. I’ll be back soon."
"Damian—"
"Stay here," I repeated, more firmly this time. "Please."
She looked like she wanted to argue, but something in my expression must’ve stopped her because she finally nodded. "Be careful."
I pressed a kiss to her forehead, then followed Rick out of the room.