Page 132 of Moonlit Fate

Philesia nodded. “They are attempting to take fate into their own hands,” Philesia explained with an unsettling calm. “It’s unacceptable.”

“They were calling on some kind of magic before you arrived. It felt… wrong.” Aria’s whole body trembled slightly. “They were adamant that I must die. They’ll come for me again.”

“Overmydead body,” I growled, pulling Aria close to me. The very thought set my blood on fire.

“Death is not always set in stone, dear ones. Choices lead the dance of fate,” Philesia said, a cryptic smile tugging at her lips.

“How do I stop them when I don’t even know who they are?” Aria asked desperately.

“Your enemy has not changed, only their weapon. Look beyond the masks, beyond the theater,” Philesia said. “Embrace the magic that has been building inside you. Embrace it, master it. It is the only way.”

Aria shook her head. “I don’t even understand my magic. It’s too much, too fast. Too intense.”

Laughter bubbled from Philesia’s lips. “Oh darling, open your eyes, really open them. Great power courses through you. The elements await your command. Learn to befriend them.” She brushed off her clothes. “Meet me by the old battlegrounds an hour before sunset in two days’ time. I’ll teach you. Don’t be late.” She squinted at me. “Just you, girl. No boys allowed.”

“Wait—” I called out as Philesia turned to leave. “What about me? Today, I... It was like I movedthroughshadows to reach her.”

Philesia giggled, a light, eerie sound. “How many hints must the universe drop, Atticus? You wield the shadows. They are far more than just camouflage and parlor tricks, dear boy.”

Confusion twisted inside me, and I searched my memories, the spirit, the words, the shadows.

“Well, I hope you get brighter when the times get tougher. I can’t spell everything out,” she said, almost sing-song, “You, Atticus, are a shadow walker.” With that, she disappeared from the room as ifshewere part of the shadows herself.

“Shadow walker,” I whispered, the term foreign yet familiar.

33

ARIA

My paws pounded on the dirt path, each stride echoing my heartbeat. Ilaric kept pace beside me, his breath steady and even. Mine was ragged, desperate, as I tried to outrun the power growing and morphing inside me.

“Feeling okay?”Ilaric asked in my mind.

“Fine,”I said, pushing harder into the run. My power simmered beneath my skin, a familiar itch that wanted to be unleashed. The brief pause I’d been granted when I tapped into that minuscule reserve of power the previous day now felt like a cruel, mocking tease.

Atticus’s face flashed in my mind along with the memory of him washing the mud gently off my body. He made me feel so safe and cared for. It all tempted me to let go, to dive into that warmth and never look back.

But I couldn’t. That path was fraught with complications we couldn’t afford.

“Slow down,” Ilaric called out as I surged ahead.“You’re going to burn out.”

“Can’t. Need to feel something else.”Anything to drown out this power that threatened to consume me.

Ilaric fell behind as I propelled myself forward. Philesia would have answers; she had to. Until then, I’d chase the burn, the ache in my muscles, the sweet exhaustion that promised oblivion if only for a moment.

“Wait!” Ilaric’s voice trailed after me, tinged with concern.

“Sorry, can’t stop.” The wind whipped past as I kept up my frantic place.

I skidded to a halt, chest heaving, my breath ragged. I turned back, watching for Ilaric, irritation gnawing at me. Why couldn’t he keep up? I shifted onto two legs, and paced, each step filled with a sharp apprehension. The energy had gone from humming under my skin to slashing at my insides, desperate for release. I clenched my fists to fight it, to stop the pounding of my heart. Rain started to speckle my face. I looked up, squinting against the droplets. Dark clouds had gathered like an omen.

“Come on, Ilaric, hurry the fuck up,” I muttered under my breath.

Ilaric finally caught up, his breaths deep and even. He was hardly winded. Had he even tried? He shifted from his enormous wolf into the man who’d always been a secondary father to me.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard. Let’s head back. You need to rest.”

I shook my head, about to argue, but he was right. I desperately needed rest to soothe the tempest raging inside me.

---