Page 98 of Moonlit Fate

I nodded, unable to muster words that could possibly convey the depth of my gratitude, or the terror that clawed at my insides. Each “thank you” was a petal on the wind, a fleeting touch that left a mark on my soul.

I stepped away from the pack and strode toward Atticus. “We need to prepare.”

“Of course.” Atticus stepped forward, the intricate tapestry of his tattoos shifting with the movement. “Tonight, we honor your father, and we secure our future.” He stared at me, fierce and unflinching.

“Back here at three, just in time for the eclipse,” I said.

“Whatever you need, I’m with you.”

The promise hung there, tangible as the chain around my neck. A vow of support, unwavering and true. As he’d spoken, a recognition had sparked between us—of our intertwined fates and the fires of passion that could either forge us anew or consume us entirely.

“Let’s not keep destiny waiting,” I said. But even as a half-hearted smile tugged at my lips, my heart knew. There was no armor against the coming eclipse, only the strength we’d found in each other’s arms.

25

ATTICUS

My guilt was a tangible, oppressive force. I sat in the dimness of my den, motionless, my hands clenched as I replayed recent events over and over again. The memory of Aria’s anguished face haunted me,a recollection of the pain I had failed to shield her from.

Ragnar’s private thoughts clung to me like a second skin, a violation of trust that branded me with shame. It burned at my insides, this knowledge that I had breached an unspoken code for the sake of understanding, for the desperate hope that I could alter the course of fate. But what had it brought except more anguish to Aria?

Each what-if scenario played out in vivid detail, an unyielding procession of alternatives where I emerged the victor, the protector, the one who absorbed all the hurt so she didn’t have to. Aria’s pain clung to my soul, her sorrow carving deeper into me than any wound I’d ever received in battle.

The helplessness that surged through me was an abomination to everything I stood for. To be incapacitated when those I cherished most were in jeopardy went against the very core of my being. The rogue wolf in me snarled at thechains of circumstances that confined me, that had rendered me powerless just when I’d needed my strength the most. If only…

My heart was being ripped from my chest, each beat a painful echo of Aria’s distress.

The raw truth was that I loved her beyond reason, beyond the instincts that drove me. And love demanded sacrifice, demanded that you laid bare your soul for another. If only I had done things differently. If only I’d been the shield she needed before the scars had been inflicted.

But time was a river, and it flowed only in one unforgiving direction. All I could do now was brace for the impact of the truths yet to be revealed and pray that our bond, profound as it was, would help us through this, too.

My scattered thoughts moved from Aria’s father to my own. My father’s betrayal had left a wound far deeper than any battle could inflict. I had longed to believe in his redemption, to see a glint of love in his eyes that was meant for me and not just for the power he craved. But now, I knew that such hopes were as fleeting as the wind.

And yet, there had been relief in his eyes at our last glance.

I was so entrenched in my brooding that I almost missed the change in the room’s atmosphere. The soft patter of footsteps broke through the silence.

Aria entered with Seren and Eldan, her hair down around her shoulders, a cascade of moon-touched silk. My fingers twitched with the yearning to weave through those strands. My chosen family gravitated toward her, orbiting her luminescence. They hugged her, their arms offering solace where words fell short. Each gesture, each touch, was a silent vow of loyalty and protection.

“Your strength gives us hope,” Eldan said, his hand resting briefly on her arm before stepping back to give her space.

“Hope is what keeps us fighting,” Seren said, her smile an attempt to lift the heaviness that clung to our hearts.

Aria nodded her thanks.

“Thank you,” I said after clearing the lump from my throat. “For being here for her when I falter.”

Their nods were solemn, understanding the depth of my gratitude without needing further words.

As Aria moved among them, her resilience and poise cutting through the tension in my den, unease wound its way down my back. The light from the hearth danced across her features, casting her in an ethereal glow that accentuated the contours of her face. She was becoming more than just a member of our makeshift clan; she was ascending, guiding us into uncharted darkness.

“Thank you. All of you,” Aria said, commanding the room’s attention just by existing. “Tonight, we stand at the precipice of destiny. But this ritual... it’s cloaked in mystery. Not knowing what awaits frightens me.”

Her admission struck a chord in me. We were stepping beyond the veil of certainty, and it was a journey we had to take separately but also together. We’d taken the steps to learn what the seer and the shack had offered us. As the seer had promised, the knowledge had been given to us. When we’d been ready for it, the forest had provided. We had the triskele, and we knew the steps we had to perform. All we needed now was the full eclipse.

“I can see the resolve in your eyes,” I said to her. “You’re ready for this. Ready to face whatever fate has written for you.”

Aria offered an almost imperceptible nod. This was a burden that would either forge her anew or consume her entirely.

---