Page 112 of Moonlit Fate

“Fine,” I lied. The memory of Aria’s troubled face in the clearing yesterday haunted me, those eyes that used to look at me with something other than... what? Pity? Fear?

“You don’t appear to be fine,” she pressed. Genuine concern poured from her. The worry from all of them—Lyza, Joren, even Hale—had a bittersweet quality, serving as a constant reminder of everything I was working to forget, or rather, who I was trying to forget.

“Really, Mia. I’m just tired.” I avoided her gaze, focusing instead on how the shadows danced between the trees, taunting me with their fluidity, mocking my inability to escape my own darkness.

“Yesterday must’ve been hard for you,” she said softly.

“Seeing her always is,” I admitted, the words ripping from my throat bitterly. “I wish things were different.” What else could I say? Nothing. Fucking nothing.

“Maybe it can be. With time,” she said, but I heard the doubt in her tone.

“Time hasn’t changed anything so far.” I clenched my fists, staving off the familiar pull of the shadows at my fingertips, ready to leap forth and engulf everything like they did when I looked at Aria and all I could see was a future we’d never have.

“Let’s keep moving. We need those herbs before the rain damages them any further,” Mia said, tactfully changing the subject.

I nodded, grateful for the temporary reprieve. We walked in silence, but my mind still churned with things I didn’t want to talk about. Mia moved with purpose, scanning the underbrush for the medicinal plants she pretended to need.

“Did my potion help at all last night?”

“It was fine,” I lied again, looking at a gnarled tree trunk, its roots like twisted fingers clawing at the ground.

Mia raised an eyebrow. “You know you can talk to me, right? About the nightmares?”

I shrugged her off. “They’re just dreams.”

“They’re not just dreams if they keep you up all night. You look exhausted.”

“Sometimes...” I faltered, my mind racing to the complexity of my thoughts into words. Aria had helped me open up in ways I never had before, teaching me the importance of not shouldering everything alone. The irony didn’t escape me. She’d discarded me in her time of need, because she thought I’d make her look weak in front of her pack. But being a good leader meant learning to accept and embrace help when needed.

“Atticus?” Mia said.

Taking a deep breath, I found the strength to say, “Sometimes I wonder if the dreams aren’t dreams, but fragments of forgotten memories.” Something dark stirred inside me.

“Memories of what?”

“Shadows, voices... my father.” Saying it out loud made it real—too real. “I don’t want to close my eyes. When I dream, I’m a kid, and darkness is moving in around me. I hear my parents, searching for me, arguing about me...” Frustrated, I kicked at the ground, sending leaves and twigs flying. “When I wake up, I do whatever I can to stay awake, whether it means dunking my head in cold water, shifting and going for a run—anything to avoid sleep.”

I looked at her then, let her see the fear that followed me. Now that I’d started, there was no turning back. The words tumbled out of me like a torrent, impossible to halt.

“Other times, I’m trapped. These fragmented memories… They haunt me. The more I try to make sense of them, the more the shadows I control slip from my grasp. They coil around my chest, constricting tighter and tighter until each breath is astruggle. I wake up gasping, my heart pounding, drenched in sweat, unsure of where the nightmare ended and reality begins.”

She reached out to touch me, but let her hand drop when I took a step back. My misery only compounded when I saw the hurt flicker over her face. She only wanted to comfort me, but my defenses were paper thin.

“Have you tried to sit and rest without actually sleeping?”

“I can’t, Mia. I’m too afraid. What if I drift off and unlock more of those memories? What if remembering changes the very core of my identity?” I scanned the trees, half-expecting shadows to leap out from behind them.

“Youneedto sleep, Atticus. This isn’t sustainable.”

“Neither is facing whatever’s in those nightmares.”

As we walked on, my mind wandered back to Aria. She had looked scared yesterday, vulnerable. I’d wanted to reach out, pull her into my arms and tell her it would be all right. But then I remembered that she’d rejected me, and that cut deeper than any physical pain.

“Does she miss me?” I wondered out loud.

“Who, Aria?” Mia glanced back at me, her brow furrowed.

“Never mind.”

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