Page 126 of Moonlit Fate

“No,” she said hesitantly, a flush creeping into her cheeks. “Well, maybe a little.” She looked up at me. I didn’t need any psychic connection to read the concern in her eyes.

“What is it? What are you worried about, Aria? You can talk to me.”

She sighed. “Us being pushed together like this…I’m a little concerned about that.”

“Do you think so little of me? Do you think that simply because we have to join forces, I assume that means everything will go back the way it was?” Every ounce of hurt and frustration I’d felt since she rejected me came through in my tone. “Or is it your own impulses you can’t control?”

“No.” She shook her head, the movement making the light catch her long, silver hair. “No, Atticus. That’s not what I?—”

I held up a hand. “Isn’t it? This isn’t about us, Aria. It’s so much bigger than that. Whatever we did during that ritual, we fucked up. If I understand Ilaric correctly,” I continued carefully, “we need to pool our knowledge and resources to understand these powers and find a solution to fix everything. Return the spirits to their realm, protect the Silver Claw, my chosen family, and every magical being in Lycanterra.”

Her gaze bore into mine, as if trying to unearth hidden meanings beneath what I’d said. Yet, there was only one truth to be found. She’d made it painfully clear that her pack would never welcome a rogue, and since she was the alpha, their well-being would always take precedence. I tried to convey the depth of sincerity through this fragile new connection we had, hoping she’d understand it.

“All right,” Aria said after a long pause, extending her hand to shake. “Let’s do this.”

The marks on our arms illuminated as soon as our hands met, as if confirming the agreement. I carefully concealed the emotions her touch stirred within me behind the walls I’d honed through years of experience. Her knowing how I felt about her would only undermine the tentative agreement we’d just reached.

After watching her for a moment longer, I left the library.

When I was halfway down the hall, she called my name, and I stopped. If I was deciphering her emotions through the link correctly, then she felt conflicted about me leaving.

“Sorry,” she said when she reached me. “As soon as you left the room, the pain started up again. I wasn’t ready for it.”

I rubbed my arm. My thoughts had been too consumed with her to notice it fully, but I’d felt the prickling under my skin when I’d left her proximity. Now, it had vanished.

“How about you walk me to the door? That way we can prepare for the impending pain together?” I suggested.

Her nod prompted me to double-check my shields. I didn’t want her to pick up on my joy at the prospect of spending more time in her company, even if only for the length of the hallway.

As I walked home, the chill night air bit my skin, but warmth bloomed inside me. Aria’s emotions thrummed in my mind—so strong it was as if she still walked beside me.

No more hiding in the shadows, feeling sorry for myself. Not when Aria needed protection. Not when there was so much at stake. I could stand by her, fight with her, without claiming her as mine. That was what she deserved.

For the first time since Aria had rejected me, I had hope. Now that I knew we were attuned to each other’s feelings, I understood the deep depression I’d been under wasn’t mine alone. That gave me some relief.

The walk through the forest was uneventful. When I shifted and ran, even my wolf felt freer and happier. Once I reachedthe edges of our territory, I shifted back into my wolf form and walked through the curtain of greenery that hid the den’s entrance.

“Atticus?” Mia called out as I entered.

“I’m fine,” I replied on autopilot as I moved past her to my room. For the first time in weeks, that wasn’t a lie. Her worried gaze followed me, but I didn’t need coddling. Not anymore.

Alone in my room, the truth settled in my bones. This whole mess wasn’t about me or my feelings. It was about standing guard over Aria and the pack. About facing whatever my father had planned. I’d be the shield, the silent guardian, whether Aria and I were together or not.

That was okay. Because it was Aria. It was always going to be about her.

I uncorked the small vial Mia had left in my room. The murky blue liquid promised rest—at least, I hoped it.

The potion took effect quickly, my limbs growing heavy as I sank into my bed. Sleep tugged at my consciousness, and I welcomed it, craving the void where thoughts and dreams didn’t exist.

The void didn’t come.

Instead, my father’s face materialized from the darkness behind my closed eyelids. His lips were twisted in a snarl, his fangs bared—a predator in human skin. He spoke no words, but his message was clear: he was the Crimson Fang alpha now, and his ambitions were as sharp as his name.

I tried to push back against the dream, to wake myself up, but I was trapped. My father’s presence was oppressive, suffocating, as real as if he was in the room with me.

A growl gurgled in my throat, a rogue’s challenge to an unworthy alpha. No sound escaped. I was voiceless here, powerless to confront him or to protect anyone from his looming threat.

Every nerve inside me ignited. Mia’s potion was meant to keep the dreams at bay. Yet here I was, locked in a silent confrontation with the man who had given me life but no legacy beyond pain and betrayal.

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