Page 17 of Moonlit Fate

“The forest seems to have a way of bringing us together,” I said softly.

Aria tilted her head slightly, acknowledging my words without ending her communion with the wilderness. I waited patiently for her to break the silence that hung as fragile and infinitely complex as a spider’s web connecting us. She turned slowly, her luminescent silver eyes finding mine in the dark, piercing through the veil of shadows cloaking me.

“Why were you at the party?” she asked. “And what were you doing inside my head?”

I suppressed a smile, admiring the determination that danced behind her accusatory gaze. There was an untamed and fierce quality to her spirit that inexplicably drew me close, even though there were a myriad reasons I should keep my distance.

“Just passing by,” I said with a casual ease. My shrug was an attempt to deflect the intensity of her scrutiny. “The celebration seemed interesting.”

She just crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowing.

“As for your head,” I said, stepping closer to where she was rooted to the spot. “You looked as if you could use a little help.”

At the celebration, I had sensed her chaotic emotions swirling deep inside her, a frenzy threatening to spill over during the revelry.

Defiance rippled over her features, and the forest seemed to hold its breath at her indignation. “I was perfectly fine.” Even though Aria stood with the pride of a warrior, I easily saw the cracks in her armor.

“Fine?” I retorted softly, inching closer until the air crackled between us. The moon above highlighted the delicate flush that rose on her cheeks. “You were on the verge of fainting.” Closing the gap between us, I basked in the heat radiating from her skin. “I felt your panic from across the room. Would’ve been quite a show, revealing your true feelings about your mating situation in front of the entire pack. I’m sure your father would have been so proud of you, princess.”

Her breath hitched. “That’s none of your business.” But her annoyance bled into embarrassment, a subtle shift that didn’t escape me.

I leaned in and watched her pupils dilate, the silver of her eyes turning black. Electric tension crackled and pulsed all around us.

“Hard to imagine mating with that prick is your idea of a fairytale ending,” I said. Each word was deliberate, probing.

“You don’t know Larkin. He’s an eligible bachelor, and highly regarded,” she said a bit tremulously. Her tone lacked the steel that had been present during our previous encounter. It wasclear as the crystal stream that wound through these woods that she didn’t believe her own defense.

I couldn’t help myself. I laughed. “You seem absolutely thrilled with the match,” I replied sarcastically.

Her eyes, those twin silver moons, held mine. I saw her spirit, a wild thing caged.

“Thrilled doesn’t begin to cover it,” she snapped. But beneath it, there was an undercurrent of a different emotion—resignation, perhaps, or a plea for understanding.

A powerful force tugged at me, urging me to defy the roles society had assigned us.

“You don’t know anything about me.” Her words, as soft as a rose petal, pierced me like a thorn.

Her vulnerability called out to me, awakening a primal and deeply ingrained instinct to keep her safe. My chest tightened, not with the desire for battle but from an ache to shield her from the invisible chains that oppressed her spirit.

“Perhaps not,” I said. “But Iseeyou. Truly see you.”

In that moment, our connection became a tangible thing, a living entity that wound its way around our souls and whispered of what could be. We were two souls caught in an intricate dance. Each step, each movement was an act of rebellion against the roles we were doomed to play.

I resisted the urge to reach out and trace the contours of her face, memorizing every line and curve. Instead, I leaned against a gnarled tree, the rough bark pressing into my back as I watched her. The moonlight danced across her face, softening the harsh lines of defiance.

“And,” I said, my voice husky now, “I know someone who’s trapped when I see them.”

Her eyes flashed as she squared her shoulders, the tension in her frame contrasting with the calm demeanor she tried to project. “Are you reading my mind?” she demanded.

“No.” I shook my head slightly to emphasize the point. “I only enter people’s minds when it’s absolutely necessary. And the only time I’ve entered yours was when you knew about it at the party. That wasn’t to readyourthoughts; it was to share mine.”

My ability to enter someone’s mind through telepathy in human form would surely seem strange to her. In our wolf form, it was second nature, but in our human form, it was only possible to pick up on the strongest of emotions—and even then, only between the closest of relations. I could enter the minds of most people and speak to them, unless they were guarded against it, but a talent like mine was so rare that few knew how to shield their thoughts.

Emotions warred on her face—the flicker of doubt, the desire to believe.

“Your privacy is sacred,” I vowed. “Your thoughts are your own, just as my own are fiercely guarded.” I relaxed my stance, letting my hands hang loosely by my sides. “Trust is earned, and I’m not the kind of person to take it lightly.”

“Would you read them if I let you?” Her question was hesitant, a whisper the rustling leaves nearly swallowed.

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