22. Aria

22

ARIA

I stared out the window, absentmindedly twirling my hair. Atticus had carried me to my room after we’d seen my father in the garden. I couldn’t help but worry about Ragnar’s reaction to the news that Larkin had taken Seren. He’d gone so quiet. His face had paled. Larkin had blatantly challenged his authority, and taken a member of his pack right from under him.

He’d left, muttering, “There was no fool like an old fool.” Now, Atticus was acting strange, and I couldn’t help thinking he was holding something back from me. My attention was fixed on the untamed wilderness that sprawled before me, but my mind swirled with Atticus’s words and fear for Seren.

“His eyes were like dark tunnels,” Atticus said. “As if he’d seen into the abyss, and it had looked back into him.” He paused his recounting of his meeting with his father.

I turned from the window, torn between the fiery passion I held for the rogue wolf before me and the icy whispers of doubt, the echoes of my father’s disapproval. I longed to dash into the night and rescue Seren from the clutches of our enemies, but the urge went away. Blind valor could be a fool’s errand.

“Midnight,” Atticus said, his tone shifting to skepticism. “He wants us to retrieve the amulet piece then. Claims he’ll clear the way. We have one day left before the eclipse, I wish we could spend the time going through everything we need to do, but we need this amulet. Without it…”

His words weren’t needed. Without the amulet, we wouldn’t be able to perform the ritual, anyway. We had to get this right for everyone.

I stiffened. Surely he wasn’t planning on going? Midnight. There was something ominous about that hour. Or maybe I was simply seeing a threat in everything. Probably both.

“But?” I asked, my intuition sharpening against his hesitation.

“But,” he said with a rueful smile, revealing his own internal struggle, “we can’t afford to lay our trust there. Not wholly. I want to believe that he’s reaching out, seeking some semblance of reconciliation.”

“Yet, you think it’s a trap.” In his expression, I found a reflection of my own wariness, the acknowledgment that the past was often a cruel mistress.

“Yes,” Atticus said. “Time will tell. And until it does, we must tread carefully. We have to go in prepared for every eventuality, Aria. Hope for the best, expect the worst.”

“Vigilance.” I reached for his hand, wanting to feel the warmth of his skin. Thank goodness he wasn’t blinded by the desperate desire for family ties that might never bind again. “Then midnight it is,” I said, “but on our terms. We walk into the night with eyes wide open.” I stroked the back of his hand with my thumb. “I’m sorry for ever doubting you.” My guilt for questioning the bond we shared pressed heavily on my chest. “You’ve shown me nothing but goodness. It’s just… all these whispers from the past cloud my judgment.”

He searched my eyes, understanding flashing on his face. “Your doubts are reflections of care, not condemnation.”

Before I responded, the door burst open, tearing through our tender moment. Eldan rushed in, chest heaving.

“Aria, your father, he’s—” Eldan gasped, struggling to find the rest of his words.

I stepped forward, my hand reaching out to steady him. “What has happened?”

“He’s gathering reinforcements. I heard the commotion, the orders being given. It’s happening.”

My heart leaped, happiness flooding through me. My father was taking action. Was it out of guilt for not believing me about Larkin immediately? No matter. He was finally acting.

I threw my arms around Eldan, pulling him into a hug that spoke volumes of our camaraderie, a time of innocence now shrouded in the mists of a more complicated world. I suddenly longed for those days when our greatest decision was which game to play beneath the sprawling branches outside.

Eldan pulled back, the lines of worry on his face smoothing slightly at my touch. “We’re going to make things right. All of us.”

I smiled, though my lips trembled with unspoken fears. For even as we prepared to step into battle, to rescue our own and fight for the future we dreamed of, doubt clung to me. And the nagging question of what the future had in store for me and Atticus.

Eldan paced back and forth with a restless energy that echoed my own. Atticus stood by the hearth, his tall frame relaxed yet somehow imposing, the firelight dancing over the rugged planes of his face. The two men, who had once clashed wills, now shared a space, an uneasy truce between them.

“Atticus,” I said. “Eldan.” They both turned to look at me, and I arched an eyebrow as I looked back and forth. “Are you two going to play nice?”

The corner of Atticus’s mouth quirked up in that half-smirk that never failed to warm me. It was full of promises, of things said in the dark that only we would ever hear. Meanwhile, Eldan crossed his arms and regarded Atticus with a measured look, the kind that weighed and judged before it settled.

“Seems we’ve come to an unspoken understanding and respect,” Eldan said, his tone carrying the subtle warmth of acceptance. There was no handshake, no slaps on the back, just acknowledgment.

“Good,” I said. “Because unity is our only hope, and tonight, we’ll need every ounce of it.”

There was a charged silence, each of us involved in our own minds. The room, with its heavy drapes and ornate furnishings, was a fortress, a momentary calm from the havoc that awaited beyond these walls. But soon enough, we would leave the safety of stone and wood for the danger of the open night.

I leaned back against the plush cushions of the settee and allowed myself a small grin. “I’m proud of you for finding common ground with Atticus,” I said to Eldan. “It means more than you know.”

Eldan shifted on his feet, looking away before returning to me. He gave me a searching look. “What’s our move? How do we play this?”

“Seren is our top priority,” I said. “We aren’t certain she’s in the Crimson Fang territory, but it’s where logic points. Larkin’s always been crafty. He knows how to bait a trap, and he’s using her to lure us out.”

Eldan clenched his jaw and nodded. We both understood the stakes. Each step toward Seren was a step into Larkin’s snare. But there was no choice, not when it came to family.

As if summoned, my father strode into the room. “This has escalated,” Ragnar announced. “I’m sorry I doubted you, Aria. Larkin’s deceit has become a pack matter. I’m bringing reinforcements. We will stand united behind you in this rescue mission.”

The words I had longed to hear from him now echoed through the room, filling spaces in me I hadn’t known were hollow. “Thank you,” I said, though my gratitude mingled with a trace of bitterness. “It’s always been a pack matter. If only you’d seen it earlier, Seren might still be here. Safe.”

Something flickered in my father’s eyes—regret, perhaps, or the realization of his mistakes. There was a freedom in releasing the burden of unspoken truths. It felt good. No, it felt right to lay bare the frustrations that had long eaten at my soul.

To my surprise, my father’s stern features softened. He inclined his head, the lines of command smoothing into ones of contrition.

“You’ve always been the wild one of our family. Even if we have argued a time or two,” he said with a rare, unguarded fondness, “I’ve always admired your unwavering determination. You were right, and for that... I apologize.”

His hand extended toward Atticus, who stood beside me, his presence a constant comfort. “Thank you for keeping Aria safe. As her alpha… her father, I’m grateful.”

Atticus studied Ragnar, then accepted the offered handshake. “Keeping Aria safe has never been a duty, but an honor,” Atticus said. “She is the north star of my existence, the one fixed point around which my world turns.”

As their hands clasped, my heart swelled with pride for the man who held mine so delicately in his grasp. Yet, the sight of my father showing kindness to Atticus added layers to my inner conflict. Happiness warred with frustration. Ragnar’s acceptance was only partial, conditional.

I was torn between the elation of witnessing my father’s growth and the piercing sting of his continued resistance to our union.

“Tonight, we fight together,” Ragnar said. “Not just as kin, but as allies forged in the crucible of necessity.”

“Indeed.” Atticus released my father’s hand and turned to me with a look that promised a thousand silent conversations later.

“Let’s prepare,” I said. “We have a sister to rescue.”

“Ragnar,” Atticus said, “my chosen family stands ready to offer their aid tonight, should you accept.”

My father studied Atticus, then gave a slow, deliberate nod. “I’ll inform the pack. Your support is appreciated.” The words seemed to claw their way out of him, but they were out. That was the important thing.

Turning to me, Atticus closed the gap with a few strides. The soft brush of his lips against mine was a promise, a silent vow that spoke louder than any roar of challenge. “Meet me at the border of the Crimson Fang’s territory,” he said. “Together with your pack, we will bring Seren home.”

The kiss lingered, tendrils of longing twining into my soul, rooting me to the spot even as he stepped away.

“Until then,” I said, and he left.

The taste of him lingered on my lips, a tangible reminder that our bond was forged not just in moonlit whispers but in the crucible of shared battles. I turned back to the window, the wilderness beyond no longer a mere backdrop to our saga but a witness to the intertwining of fates—a rogue wolf and a headstrong alpha, united under the banner of love and war.

We exited my bedroom, my father and Eldan flanking me. A hush fell over the sitting room as we entered. The assembled warriors of our pack milled around, anticipation and tension mingling. Every muscle coiled, ready for the charge of his words.

“Tonight, we face the Crimson Fang,” Ragnar rumbled. “And we do not face them alone.” He paused, allowing his gaze to sweep over each member of the pack. “The rogues, led by Atticus, will join us.”

Murmurs crept through the ranks. Trusting outsiders was not our way, but these desperate times clawed at our traditions, leaving us with the need for unity. I caught snippets of dissent before my father raised his hand, silencing them with the ease of a seasoned alpha.

“Listen well,” he said. “We reclaim one of our own tonight. Seren’s blood calls to us, and we answer as one pack, united under a single purpose.” Ragnar turned toward me, his eyes glinting with something that resembled pride. “Aria will be your leader on this mission.”

Faces turned to me, some questioning, others calculating. I straightened, letting the fire of my nature blaze forth. Funny quips and sarcasm were my usual armor, but now I let them fall away.

“Thank you,” I said to my father. “I won’t let our pack down.”

His brief nod was an acknowledgment of the torch being passed. The whispers resumed, but I heard none of it. My focus narrowed to the task ahead, to the faces of my packmates who entrusted their lives to my command.

“Tonight, we run with shadows at our side,” I began. “And we will retrieve our sister from our enemies. Let the Crimson Fang know that our hearts beat with the unity of the wild, the fierceness of our kindred spirits. We are unstoppable.”

Nods of agreement rippled through the crowd. Eldan stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. His support was the anchor I needed to keep the surging panic at bay.

“Prepare yourselves,” I said, locking eyes with each of them, letting them see the determination of my soul. “We move as the moon rises, and by its setting, we will be victorious.”

The energy in the room shifted. We were more than just a pack; we were a force of nature. And tonight, we would prove it with tooth and claw.