Chapter 82 Dinner with Luna Elena’s family
Aria’s POV
By the time we arrived at the Capitol Convention Center Ballroom that evening, my nerves were already frayed.
The private dining room Elena had reserved was elegant and intimate, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city and a table set for about fifteen people.
Elena immediately pulled me to sit beside her, which put me directly across from Damian. His dark gray eyes met mine, and I felt heat creep up my neck.
"Everyone, this is Aria Smith," Elena announced warmly, her hand resting on my shoulder. "Damian’s mate."
The word hung in the air, making my face burn hotter. I felt every pair of eyes in the room turn to assess me.
"Aria, this is my brother Alex Moore and his wife Catherine," Elena continued, gesturing to an elegant couple in their fifties. "And their children—James, Victoria, and little Phoebe."
I smiled and nodded at each introduction, trying to remember names while simultaneously avoiding Damian’s penetrating stare.
"It’s lovely to meet you all," I managed, my voice steadier than I felt.
"Lovely to meet you too, dear," Catherine said warmly, her European accent softening her words. "Elena has told us so much about you. We’re thrilled Damian finally found his mate."
Alex raised his glass toward me, his sharp eyes assessing but kind. "Welcome to the family, Aria. Any mate of Damian’s is family to us."
Damian shifted in his seat across from me, and when I glanced at him, the possessive heat in his gaze made my core clench. His injury clearly hadn’t dampened his intensity one bit.
The dinner progressed with course after course of exquisite food.
Elena kept drawing me into conversations, asking about my background, my work with my father’s company, my plans for the future.
I answered as honestly as I could while carefully avoiding certain topics, like the fact that I’d spent the last two years married to someone else.
"Here, dear," Alex said, suddenly rising with his glass. "Let me pour you some of the good wine. This bottle is from our family’s private collection in France."
Before I could protest, he was filling my glass with a rich red wine that probably cost more than my monthly hotel bill.
"To Aria," he toasted, raising his glass. "May she bring as much joy to Damian as my Catherine has brought to me."
Everyone raised their glasses, and I had no choice but to drink. The wine was smooth and strong, warming me from the inside out.
"Uncle Alex, you’re going to get her drunk," Damian’s voice cut through the chatter, low and warning.
"Nonsense!" Alex laughed. "A toast to welcome her properly. Besides, she needs to learn to keep up with the Nightshade family. We take our celebrations seriously."
Elena’s other brother, Julian, immediately stood with his own glass.
"Another toast then! To the woman brave enough to tie herself to Damian Blackwood. God knows he needs someone to keep him in line."
Laughter rippled around the table as I drank again, this time more deeply. The alcohol was definitely starting to affect me, making everything feel softer, warmer.
"I think that’s enough toasts," Damian said firmly, his eyes locked on me with clear concern.
"Oh, come now," Catherine chimed in, already pouring more wine into my glass. "One more won’t hurt. To young love!"
I caught Damian’s eye across the table. He looked ready to physically restrain his relatives from forcing more alcohol on me, his jaw tight with barely controlled irritation.
But Elena was already raising her glass again, her eyes a bit glassy. "To my future daughter-in-law! You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment, Aria. "
"Damian has been so difficult, turning down every suitable match we suggested. But now I understand why—he was waiting for you."
My chest tightened at her words, at the genuine emotion in her voice. I raised my glass with everyone else, drinking deeply to hide the sudden sting of tears in my eyes.
The wine was definitely hitting me now. Everything felt pleasantly fuzzy, and Damian’s face across the table seemed to blur and sharpen alternately.
"Alright, that’s enough," Damian announced, his tone brooking no argument. "She’s had plenty."
"She’s fine!" Julian protested. "Look at her, she’s holding it together beautifully. Not like some of the weak-stomached women you’ve—"
"I said enough." The command in Damian’s voice made everyone fall silent.
His eyes had darkened dangerously, and even I could feel the weight of his authority pressing down on the room.
Alex cleared his throat. "Of course, of course. Forgive us, Aria. We get carried away."
"It’s okay," I said quickly, not wanting to cause tension. "Really, I’m fine. I appreciate you all being so welcoming."
The conversation shifted after that, but I could feel Damian watching me throughout the rest of the meal, his gaze heavy and protective.
When Alex raised his glass yet again—this time for a business toast to some pack alliance—Damian moved faster than I’d ever seen him move, despite his injury.
He was suddenly beside me, his hand covering the top of my wine glass.
"She’s done drinking," he said quietly but firmly.
"Damian—" I started to protest.
"No arguments, sweetheart." His hand slid to my shoulder, his thumb brushing against my neck in a gesture that looked casual but sent electricity through me. "You’ve been more than gracious with my family."
Alex looked like he wanted to argue, then thought better of it when he saw the expression on Damian’s face. "Classic. A man only gets this protective over his own wife."
Heat flooded my cheeks at the comment. I could feel everyone’s eyes on us, and the casual way Alex said "wife" made my stomach do strange flips.
"I—I need to use the restroom," I stammered, practically bolting from the table.
I took my time in the bathroom, splashing cool water on my face and trying to get my composure back. Wife. The word kept echoing in my head, along with the way Damian hadn’t corrected him.
But when I finally left the restroom and started back toward the private dining room, I only made it halfway down the hall before a hand shot out and pulled me into a darkened alcove.