Aria’s POV

Cold crept down my spine, my wolf bristling violently.

"You planted it?" I said slowly, my eyes wide.

He nodded in response.

"Why give it to me?" I studied him, trying to scent the truth beneath his words, but he’d masked himself well.

"Aria," he said gently, "you don’t have to be guarded with me. I want to help you. I’m not manipulating you. I just don’t want you to keep rejecting my feelings."

His eyes shimmered, his voice low and intimate, as if crafted to disarm.

On the surface, I seemed moved. Inside, ice spread through my veins. Disgust curled in my stomach.

If I hadn’t already suspected he was connected to what happened over a year ago, if I didn’t believe he and Sophia were tangled far deeper than they pretended, I might have fallen for it.

"You keep saying you care about me," I said quietly. "If you had that footage all along... why did you let Sophia frame me?"

I didn’t blink.

For just a fraction of a second, his expression cracked.

"Aria, I tried," he said quickly. "But they knew we were close as kids. Nathan never trusted me. He wouldn’t even let me speak. By the time I could act... you were already in prison."

Regret painted his face perfectly.

My wolf growled. He was a hypocrite.

Just looking at him made my stomach churn.

"You came all this way and haven’t eaten anything," he said suddenly, lowering his gaze, feigning concern. Then he looked up again, hopeful. "If the food doesn’t suit you, I can have them bring fruit wine."

A smooth change of subject from him, clearly an attempt to bury the past.

I smiled faintly, letting him think he’d succeeded. "Sure. I heard they have a new cherry wine."

His relief was instant. He waved over the server, specifically asking for low alcohol content.

As the server walked away, I studied Richard quietly.

He appeared so careful and polished. And yet, he was nothing like the boy who once climbed fences for a bowl of fish.

I turned my head away from him and looked out the window.

Lakeside Pavilion lived up to its name. The lake beyond the glass was perfectly round, its surface smooth as polished silver.

For a moment, I felt strangely distant, as if my thoughts were drifting across that lake instead of staying inside my skull.

Focus, my wolf murmured uneasily.

"Ms., your low-alcohol cherry wine."

The server arrived quickly. Richard took the glass himself, carefully placing the straw and sliding it toward me like an offering.

"Try it."

His eagerness scraped against my nerves. I lowered my gaze to the drink.

The liquid was a deep, unsettling red, too close to the color of fresh blood. My wolf stiffened instantly, hackles rising beneath my skin. Something about it felt wrong.

I frowned.

"What’s wrong?" Richard asked, concern softening his voice. Then he added lightly, "It’s been hot lately. Drink it before the ice melts."

I hesitated.

My instincts were screaming, but logic shoved them aside. It’s just fruit wine, I told myself. Low alcohol.

I took a sip.

The cherry flavor exploded across my tongue. Cold spread down my throat, refreshing in a way that felt... off. I took another sip before setting the glass aside, my wolf pacing restlessly in my chest.

"How is it?" Richard asked, watching me closely.

"Not bad," I said shortly.

I grabbed my bag and stood. "I’ve had the drink. I should go now."

For once, Richard didn’t stop me. He simply nodded, sitting back. "Alright."

I stood too fast.

The room tilted, shadows overlapping and smearing together like wet ink. I blinked hard and just as suddenly, the dizziness disappeared.

I probably just stood up too quickly, I told myself, brushing it off.

I headed for the exit.

By the time I reached the door, my legs betrayed me. I had to brace myself against the doorframe, my palm sliding along the cool wood.

My head throbbed. My thoughts felt sluggish and fogged.

My wolf growled low and furious.

That drink.

But it made no sense. I could handle far stronger alcohol than that. Two sips of low-alcohol fruit wine shouldn’t affect me at all.

I shook my head, trying to clear it, but the fog only thickened.

I pulled out my phone, intending to call Amelia to pick me up.

Before I could unlock the screen, the phone was gently taken from my hand.

"What’s wrong?" Richard’s voice slid into my ears, low and soothing, almost hypnotic. "You don’t look well."

I forced my eyes open, struggling to focus. The world swayed again.

"Richard...?" It took far too long to recognize his face.

"You seem drunk," he said softly. "Let me take you somewhere to rest."

His arm wrapped around my waist, his grip supportive yet inescapable. My strength was draining fast, my limbs heavy, my wolf fighting against something unseen.

Poison, she snarled. You’ve been poisoned.

I leaned into him unwillingly, my steps unsteady as he guided me away from the exit.

I didn’t know where he was taking me.