11. Atticus

11

ATTICUS

I could taste Aria’s desperation in the kiss. Even though every fiber of my being yearned to get lost in her, I broke away from her, the sudden absence of her warmth a punch to the gut. Her eyes, wide with hurt, reflected my own discord.

“Hey,” I said softly, placing a finger under her chin so she’d look up at me. “I want you—all of you—but not like this. Not when your world is spinning out of control. Not in the middle of a magical forest, with a seer and his feline friend spying on us.”

Her unique silver eyes locked on mine, and a hush fell over the forest around us, as if it was anticipating what would happen next. I did my best to express my desire for her through my gaze. She blinked, and the world came back.

Without a word, we started walking again, the silence a thick veil between us. She was close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from her body, yet miles away.

The sun was beginning to make a slow appearance, chasing the stars out of the sky, when Aria asked, “What did the seer mean when he said, ‘That’s enough’?”

I let out a slow breath. “I tried to slip into his mind. But he must have sensed me clawing at the edges, seeking a way in.”

The seer’s mind had been shielded like a fortress, like none I’d come across before. I’d learned to build mine as a child, a necessity in a world where a stray thought could hurt me as sharply as claws. I’d never encountered defenses as impenetrable as the seer’s, though. Not even a hint of emotion had leaked through.

“It was a long shot,” I acknowledged, “but considering my talents, I figured it was worth a try to get past all the cryptic bullshit he was spouting.”

Our connection burned hotter than the cool night air could quell, but we both tried to pretend it didn’t exist.

“Look.” Aria tensed up, her eyes narrowing with suspicion as she gestured up ahead.

I followed her pointed finger to a clearing ahead. There, where only dense foliage should have been, stood a shack. Its sudden appearance in this familiar part of the forest set my teeth on edge.

“Was that there before?” Aria asked.

“Definitely not.” I used all my senses to reach out and try to find danger. Having spent years exploring the unclaimed territories, I was intimately familiar with this forest. I knew the whereabouts of every watering hole and edible bush, and I sure as fuck would know if I’d seen a shack before. I approached it slowly, fully prepared for any unexpected encounters.

The rogue in me relished the adrenaline, the unknown, but Aria was with me, and that urge to protect her had me positioning myself slightly in front of her. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything. I’d observed her rigorous training sessions on the Silver Claw grounds from a distance, so I knew all too well that she was a master warrior. But the longer we were in each other’s company, the more my primary goal shifted to ensuring she was safe.

We circled the shack, ready to shift and fight if necessary, but it was completely still.

Aria stopped and looked at me. “Should we go in?”

“Somehow, it feels like we should.” In her gaze, I found a hidden reservoir of courage, and she gave a single nod before we entered the shack.

As the door creaked shut behind us, the scent of herbs—sage, rosemary, and something else, something more obscure—hit me first. The air around us was thick, almost tangible, vibrating with a latent force that seemed ready to unleash itself at any moment.

What lay in front of us was a mesmerizing sight that defied the laws of physics. We stood side by side, the door at our back, as we tried to process and internalize the overwhelming interior. It was much larger on the inside than it appeared from the outside. Shelves stretched endlessly out in front of us, crammed with ancient tomes and spell books, stacked haphazardly next to worn yellowed scrolls.

The shelves themselves seem to groan under the weight of the vast collection, some leaning, threatening to spill their contents onto the floor below. Peculiar vials and jars filled with herbs and ingredients of all kinds jostled for space, their vibrant colors contrasting against the muted tones of the ancient texts. Amongst the disarray, rocks and gems of various shapes and sizes were strewn about, each one carefully labeled and categorized. Their natural beauty caught the light of candles that burned recklessly close to the papers.

Low tables with neat rows of test tubes and jugs sat against one wall, a striking contrast to the jumbled assortment of books and texts. Mysterious liquids bubbled and fizzed in the containers, evidence of countless experiments that had been started and left to their own devices. The magic in the room vibrated through my bones.

“Someone’s been here recently,” I said as I took in the sight of the many burning candles. Some were fixed to the walls in glass-covered sconces, others in ornate metal candelabras scattered throughout the space on any available flat surface. The quivering light illuminated the space, and the gentle hiss coming from the test tubes clamped over burners filled the air.

“They left in a hurry.” Aria surveyed the chaos. Books lay open, their pages fluttering in the draft we’d let in. The counter in front of us was a chaotic mess of ingredients and strange trinkets. Either the occupant was mad, or something urgent had called them away.

“Be careful what you touch,” I muttered, though the words were for me as much as for her. The temptation to explore was almost unbearable, a hypnotic pull toward the unknown that threatened to override caution. My fingers itched to read the books, to decipher the scribbles and scrawls that might unveil some old mystery.

Aria nodded, her silver hair catching the candlelight as she moved with deliberate grace through the cramped space. The sight of her evoked a profound response inside me—a fierce desire to protect, yes, but also an admiration for her courage and her insatiable, unrelenting thirst for knowledge.

“Atticus...” Her breathy whisper drew my attention to a shelf where a myriad of vials and jars hosted contents of varying color and consistency.

I reached out, carefully steadying the candle as it threatened to topple over onto a pile of brittle, yellowed parchment. Curiosity, that damn insistent itch, led my hand toward a vial shimmering like a captured star. The powder within was a spectacle of iridescence, and without considering the consequences—a habit I cursed in retrospect—I twisted the cap and brought it to my nose.

A puff of fine dust burst forth, coating my skin with a sheen of otherworldly frost. The scent hit me second, a strange concoction of the forest and something beyond. It was as if I’d inhaled a piece of the night sky itself, its mysterious beauty filling my lungs.

A tingling sensation started on my tongue before spreading throughout my entire being. My lips betrayed me, and the floodgates opened, releasing a torrent of confessions I had sworn to keep shackled in my soul.

“I... I think about you all the time, Aria. Even when I shouldn’t… fuck!”

The words hung in the air, freezing the previously warm atmosphere between us with their sharp, biting edges. Panic clawed at my insides, a desperate need to stem the tide of truths from escaping me. My hand clamped over my mouth, but the spell was too powerful.

Aria’s jaw dropped as she rushed to my side. She reached for me, her touch gentle yet urgent, brushing away the remnants of magical powder that clung to my skin. But our proximity was our undoing. The powder, treacherous and potent, found a new victim.

Aria gasped, her body rigid as the spell ensnared her, too. “I’m scared, Atticus. Scared of what I feel for you, scared of this prophecy and what it means for us… and for my pack.” Her eyes went wide. “Get this shit off me!”

“My pack, they turned on me, frightened by my power, scared of the shadows I can control. In some ways, I was relieved when I was exiled. I’ve never wanted to be a leader, never wanted that responsibility,” I admitted as the powder forced my darkest apprehensions into the open. “Now I’m being pushed into a role I’ve avoided. I’m scared. I’m afraid I’ll let everyone down, especially you.”

Her gaze never left mine. “I’m terrified of making the wrong choice, of leading my pack to disaster,” she said.

“Water...” I hesitated, the word heavy with a lifetime of dread. “I’ve been terrified of water ever since I was a pup. It’s something I’ve never told anyone.”

“Then you should be terrified of me because I can manipulate water. I can control it.” A shuddering sob escaped her. “No one knows about it except Ilaric and Seren.” Her confession left her panting. “Sometimes I wish I could just walk away from all these shifter politics and conflicts, live a simple life, maybe in a place where nobody knows about shifters or prophecies.”

“From the instant I first saw you hanging upside down in that human snare…” The pull of fate stripped me bare. “Something drew me toward you, stronger than any force I’ve ever experienced. I’ve tried to fight it, but it’s impossible. The more I am in your presence, the more intense the attraction becomes.”

Aria touched my face, her fingers brushing my cheek gently. “That night in my bedroom, the first time you looked at me, truly looked at me, I was seen in a way I never have been before. It scared me because it caused me to doubt everything I thought I knew about myself and those who claim to love me… much like the fact that the night of the party, it took you, someone I barely knew, being there to calm my panic.”

My fingers shook with each swipe against my skin as I tried to rid myself of the powder’s enchantment. Aria’s hands were a blur as she frantically brushed at my face, her touch igniting a different kind of magic within me. Finally, the last of the shimmering dust fell away, and we collapsed onto the worn wooden floor, panting heavily.

For a bit, we just sat there, looking at everything but each other. The words we’d exchanged were never meant for the light of day from either of us.

Then laughter bubbled from Aria, uncontrollable, contagious, and freeing. “Put that damn powder away,” Aria said between fits of laughter. “Definitely don’t touch anything else without figuring out what it is first.” She lay back and giggled as I tried to compose myself.

With the utmost care, I sealed the tube and placed it far from reach. Our laughter died down, leaving a warm silence as we began to search the shack, wary of more surprises.

I flipped through a dusty book, every page a new mystery, while Aria scoured the cluttered shelves. Her sharp intake of breath drew my attention. A book lay open on the table before her, and she was focused on the sketch on the page.

Her hand hovered above the page as if she was afraid to touch it. “This must be it...”

I moved closer, peering over her shoulder at the intricate design of the triskele. There was something about the pattern. Something familiar, but entirely unsettling.

“Are you sure?” I spoke softly, but the intensity in my words was undeniable. We both knew the implications, the connection between the triskele and the fate intertwining our lives.

“Positive,” she said. “Do you think this is what the seer meant when he said knowledge would be provided for us?”

“I do.” There was no other explanation for the shack appearing where one had never been before. And this triskele was more than just a symbol. It was a sign of things to come, a harbinger of a future we were still grappling to understand. No matter how much we tried to fight the tide, the waves kept battering us onto the same shore. Some forces were simply beyond our control.

I turned my attention to the leather-bound volume that had caught my eye. The pages were aged and fraying, the script carefully inked and deliberate. I studied the contours of symbols and diagrams.

“What did you find?” she asked.

I cleared my throat, focusing on the text before me. “It speaks of a ritual,” I said. “One that requires precision and elemental balance.” The book laid out the design, so complex it seemed alive, its lines and curves dancing with latent energy. “We need to draw this,” I gestured toward the diagram, “with materials that ring with nature’s lifeblood.”

Aria leaned in, her hand brushing mine as she studied the page. The touch zapped me, yet I remained focused on the writing. “Different sands, stones, petals, herbs... each chosen for their connection to the elements. Where do we even begin?”

“Somewhere sacred,” I said. “Somewhere with a confluence of energies. And before we can even start, we must purify ourselves. Cleanse our auras with sage and other herbs.”

“During the penumbral lunar eclipse,” she finished for me, the flickering candlelight giving her an ethereal glow. The very idea of aligning our actions with such a celestial event added a layer of urgency to our quest.

“It’s not just about drawing the pattern of the triskele,” I pointed out. “It’s about restoring harmony, mending the fractures in our world.” Fuck. Could we do this? “The veil between realms will be fortified through this ritual,” I added.

Aria nodded slowly, processing the magnitude of it all. “Nature’s lifeblood? My ability with water…” She cleared her throat. “It’s essential.”

I swallowed hard as reality set in. To surround the triskele with a barrier of flowing water meant confronting my own insecurities and fears. It meant trusting Aria implicitly.

“Your shadows, too,” she said softly, reaching out to trace one of the tattoos on my arm, a forest silhouette that seemed to absorb the dim light. “You’ll bring darkness to contrast the light, anchoring the energy here in the physical realm.”

“It will strengthen us,” I said. The idea of evolving alongside Aria, bound by forces greater than us, roused something primordial within me. “Then let’s make sure we understand every detail.”

We bent over the texts once more, our shared purpose uniting us in ways deeper than either of us could have anticipated.

The musty scent of rain grew stronger in my nostrils when I stepped out of the shack with Aria by my side. Our hands brushed, a current of unspoken desire and trepidation passing between us. The cocoon of revelations we had stumbled upon held us in its grasp, making it difficult to leave. However, our real lives were beckoning us back.

“Look at that sky,” Aria said. The clouds churned above, heavy and dark.

I studied the heavens. “Storm’s coming again.” It matched the storm that had been brewing in me since the day I met her—wild, unpredictable, and utterly intoxicating.

With a sigh that sounded like it was releasing more than just breath, Aria glanced down at the book she carried. “We should return soon. There’s more here that we need to understand.”

I nodded, clutching the book I’d taken. Its cover was warm from my touch, and I knew I would find the knowledge that could shape our destiny in its pages.

“We’ll return,” I vowed. “And next time, perhaps you’ll save me from doing something stupid.”

She laughed softly, her eyes glinting in a way that made my pulse race.

Whatever mystical force had brought us to the shack now had us standing at the border of the Silver Claw territory. I hesitated as the first few raindrops fell, amplifying the growing gloom. Though hidden by the squall, the sun had long since risen and cut its path across the sky to the horizon. Time had slipped away from us, the pressing matters of our separate lives calling us back to reality.

The cabin faded into the distance, and the fog of forgetfulness lifted, reminding me exactly where Aria was meant to be. “Your dinner,” I said urgently, the words tasting bittersweet. Duty beckoned, pulling Aria away to be with a man I despised.

“Fuck.” She glanced toward the darkening sky. Her pack needed her, yet the pull to keep her by my side was tangible, almost visible in the charged air.

“Go,” I said, even as everything in me demanded that I pull her into my arms and shield her from the world. But I couldn’t.

“Tomorrow,” she said firmly, “we’ll start planning the ritual.”

We both knew what had to be done. With one last look at the shack—a hidden sanctuary that held the key to our future—we stepped into the open, allowing the rain to cascade over us.

“See you tomorrow,” Aria called over the rising wind as she ran off.

“Tomorrow,” I echoed.