30. Atticus

30

ATTICUS

B y harnessing my control over my shadows, I could move through the alpha manor undetected. Although I hadn’t made much use of this ability since the ritual, something had clearly changed. The shadows were now more than a shroud to keep me hidden. They felt more substantial, beckoning me to step into their embrace. But I didn’t have the luxury of time. I had to warn Aria.

Then I’d seen them. Eldan’s hands on Aria, his fingers brushing through her hair. My jaw clenched as a firestorm of jealousy ignited inside me. I was being irrational, but thoughts of where Eldan’s hands traveled consumed me. I wanted to drag him away, wrap my shadows around him until he disappeared. My pulse thundered in my ears, each beat screaming at me to take action.

“Atticus?” Aria’s soft voice pierced through my raging thoughts. “What did you want to tell me?”

Pushing aside the ridiculous urge to lash out at Eldan, I forced my attention back to why I was here.

“My father,” I started, the words tasting bitter, “is now the Crimson Fang alpha. Larkin is his beta.”

No one reacted with surprise. They’d already suspected as much, I realized. Or knew.

“Look,” I continued, the restlessness still clawing at my insides, “you can’t trust him. He’s up to something. Just... be prepared.”

Aria began to pace, her movements erratic and jittery. She mumbled something under her breath.

“Aria?” I asked, watching her with a growing knot in my stomach.

Her companions exchanged silent glances that spoke volumes of the worry they didn’t voice.

“What’s going on? What’s wrong with her?” I looked at each of them in turn, but they gave me nothing but silence. “Someone talk to me. Now .”

“Since the ritual, it’s like I can hear the storms whispering,” Aria said as she stopped pacing. “There are markings around my birthmark. It feels like the static before a lightning strike, uncomfortable and pulsing beneath my skin. It burns as if lightning is trying to break free.”

“I’ve got them the markings, too,” I admitted. “No burning, though. But, yeah, other things.”

I wasn’t ready to talk about the dreams to Aria, not now she was with Eldan. It was too personal.

Frowning, Ilaric stepped closer to me. “Show us the markings. We need to see them.”

I hesitated, then pulled up the hem of my shirt. Dark lines curled around my hip bone, not all visible where they dipped under my waistband, their patterns alien but familiar even after just a few weeks.

Aria rolled up her sleeves next, revealing her own marks. They snaked down from her collarbone over her arms like the roots of an ancient tree.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, though her voice quivered just slightly.

The air was heavy with unspoken fears, and Aria’s persistent denial only sharpened my worry.

“You’re not fine,” I said softly. I knew, because I wasn’t either. “Can we talk?” I asked Ilaric, tilting my head toward the door.

“Of course.”

We stepped out of the chamber into the silence of the library.

“Something’s not right with her. It’s more than just the markings.” My words tumbled out in a rush.

Ilaric was unnervingly serene, although the lines around his eyes betrayed his stress. “I have some ideas about what might be happening to Aria, but they’re only theories at this point.”

“Then why are you so damn calm?” I demanded.

“Because panicking helps no one.” He pulled a dusty book from a shelf. “I’ve found writings that could shed light on those markings.”

“I don’t know why I dragged you out here,” I admitted, my frustration ebbing away into confusion.

“Sometimes, you just need to hear that someone else shares your concerns,” Ilaric said, placing a hand on my back. “You wanted reassurance that she’s looked after because you love her. So do I.”

I said nothing as Ilaric returned to the chamber. Ilaric’s perceptiveness shouldn’t have surprised me. Like Mia, he’d seen my true feelings despite my attempts to keep them hidden. I prayed he’d keep his cards close to his chest and wouldn’t tell her.

“Show us your marks again, please,” Ilaric said once I rejoined the group. Aria and I revealed the dark lines that seemed alive on our skin, while Eldan busied himself pouring drinks at a bar cart.

“Let’s see what the ancients had to say about these,” Ilaric murmured, opening the book and adjusting his glasses.

Eldan slid a glass across the bar cart toward Aria, and something in my chest twisted tight. My mind raced with thoughts I didn’t want—images of him touching her, holding her. I knew it was over between us, that I had no right to feel this jealousy, but it clawed at me all the same.

“Are you all right?” Seren asked.

“Yeah,” I managed, forcing my attention back to the group. “Just thinking about the marks.”

The markings were more than just skin; they felt alive, part of us. Mine snaked around my hip, dark shapes that moved like smoke when I wasn’t looking directly at them. Aria’s were elegant lines and curves that whispered of storms and tides. Both sets wrapped around our crescent birthmarks, unique yet complementary.

“Does anyone remember these symbols from that night of the ritual?” I asked, hoping for some clarity.

Eldan shook his head. “I only remember bits and pieces of the ritual, like trying to recall a dream after waking.”

“Same here,” Seren added. “It’s all too fragmented.”

“Maybe being close to each other makes them... resonate,” Aria suggested, her voice hesitant.

“Could be,” I agreed, the warmth emanating from where her skin nearly touched mine. The glow from our markings seemed to pulsate—hers with a soft silver-blue light, mine with deep purples and blacks.

“Look at the way they shine,” Ilaric said, peering closely. “They’re responding to each other.”

“Or warning us,” I muttered. These symbols were a sign of power, a connection, and a role we had yet to fully understand.

“Get closer,” Seren said, excitement lacing her voice. “See what happens.”

I didn’t hesitate. I pulled Aria toward me until our bodies were almost touching. Instantly, energy pricked my skin, making every hair stand on end.

“Can you feel that?” I whispered.

“Yeah,” Aria breathed, her eyes wide with wonder.

I closed my eyes, fighting the current of emotion. The intensity was overwhelming.

Seren leaned forward. “Your markings are glowing brighter now. Much brighter.”

“Are they?” I couldn’t bring myself to look at them. Keeping my eyes shut, I held Aria close as the tingle intensified.

“Definitely,” Seren confirmed. “It’s like you’re each other’s power source.”

Aria shifted slightly within my grasp. “Since the ritual, I can sense the weather patterns, and my control over water has significantly improved.”

“Same for me, but different,” I added, eyes still closed. “The shadows obey me like never before. There’s this... sense that they’re no longer insubstantial, and I could step through them into other places.”

“Planes of existence?” Seren sounded intrigued.

“Maybe,” I said, imagining the possibilities. “Like walking through one door and coming out another, somewhere else entirely.”

“Wild,” Seren muttered, stepping back. “You two are full of surprises.”

I opened my eyes and stepped away from Aria, the cool air of the chamber hitting my skin. The markings on our bodies still glowed faintly.

“Atticus,” Aria said, her forehead creasing in worry, “these markings... They’re a constant reminder, aren’t they? Of everything that’s expected of us now.”

“Yeah,” I replied, glancing down at the intricate designs wrapping around my arms. “They’re a map of choices we haven’t made yet.”

Aria bit her lip. “The seer didn’t know what to make of them. It’s like he was scared. He wouldn’t say why.”

“Scared?” That caught me off guard.

Ilaric pushed away from the wall. “I need to grab something. It might help.” He left without explaining.

“Darkness and imbalance,” Seren mused. “That’s what the spirits warned of. Could it be tied to the markings?”

“The spirits?” I asked, but then something shifted inside me, and I felt a sensation that wasn’t mine. It was Aria’s apprehension spearing into me.

Aria gasped, her gaze locking onto mine. “Atticus, I can feel your emotions. Can you feel mine?”

I nodded, not sure how to process the invasion of privacy.

“Is there a way to stop it?” She was trembling visibly. “I don’t want you to be burdened by what I feel.”

That stung, but I understood her need for space. “It’s not a burden. But I can teach you how to shield your mind. It’ll keep your thoughts and feelings private.”

“Okay,” she said. “When I’m ready.”

“You need to be clear-minded and calm,” I added. Such moments had been few and far between lately.

“Speaking of calm...” Aria hesitated. “My mother’s spirit visited me.”

“Did she?” I wanted to wrap her in my embrace, to comfort her. But I held back, respecting the distance she’d put between us.

“She didn’t have the strength to stay long, but seeing her after so many years was special. It’s the only time I’ve been grateful for the ritual. She spoke of balance.” She laughed bitterly. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Everyone speaks of balance, but they never explain what they.”

“That can’t have been easy. I know you’ve missed her.”

She smiled softly. “I have. Thank you for understanding.”

I returned her smile, keeping my own disquiet tightly locked away.

Ilaric returned with another book, its ancient cover worn and edges frayed. He laid it on the table and opened it to pages filled with archaic script and symbols that looked exactly like the markings adorning my and Aria’s skin.

“Found something,” he said, tracing the lines of text. “These aren’t arbitrary marks; it’s old magic, part of the foundation of the world itself.”

I frowned and peered at the pages. “Old magic?”

“Very old. Now the seer reaction’s makes sense.” Ilaric looked up. “We already know the two of you are the shifters spoken of in the prophecy, the ones chosen to bring about change, but it seems to be far more intricate than anything we could have expected. These powers are not random.” Ilaric paused. “The ritual that we thought failed... It did something else. It started this.”

“Started what?” My heart raced as I thought of all the insanity since that night.

“An awakening,” he said. “It bound you to your fates irrevocably.”

Aria clasped her hands together. “Can we fix it?”

“We may have veered off path, but...” Ilaric closed the book, his expression serious. “We can still mend what’s broken. This imbalance is from the from the ritual’s true effect.”

“True effect?” I echoed.

“Awakening supernatural forces,” he replied. “Not beyond repair, though, I don’t believe.”

Aria’s furrowed brow and the turmoil she projected into my mind mirrored my own confusion.

“You’re saying these markings”—I waved a hand over the glowing symbols on my arm—“are doing more than just sitting pretty?”

“More than you know,” Ilaric said. “They’ve linked the two of you on an emotional level. This is uncharted magic. It could be what we need to tip the scales back to balance. Or it could rip everything apart if you can’t manage it.”

“Great,” I muttered, exchanging a worried glance with Aria. “No pressure then.”

“Why have you only told me this now?” Aria asked Ilaric. “This would have been valuable information when we went to the seer.”

“Honestly, it didn’t occur to me until now. When you don’t have the full picture, it’s difficult to come up with a working hypothesis. Had I known what you were both experiencing, the connection you now share, I might have been able to guide you earlier. Your link to each other brought to mind a passage from a book I’d found in my research.” He held our gazes, his expression conveying his seriousness. “You must understand the significance of your connection and the need to work together.”

He picked up the book again, flipping through it to a page filled with notes in the margins. “There are places mentioned here.” He pointed to a map. “Sacred sites. They might hold the key to learning more about your powers and understanding their true potential.”

“Journeys and ancient sites?” I ran a hand through my hair, digging my fingers into my scalp. “Sounds like a fairytale quest.”

“Perhaps,” Ilaric conceded. “But these sites are not just geographical points; they’re focal spots for the magic that runs through the earth. Finding them, connecting with them, could help you master your control over all your abilities.”

“We’ll need that if we’re to do anything meaningful,” Aria said, looking over Ilaric’s shoulder at the text.

Ilaric closed the book with a sense of finality. “It comes down to understanding yourselves and this connection. Harness it, and you have a chance.”

“Understand ourselves, find some magical places, and get a grip on this bond.” I scoffed. “That’s the plan?”

“That’s the plan,” Ilaric said, his gaze flicking from me to Aria. “Time isn’t exactly on our side.”

“Let’s hope enough of it is on our side. Isolating ourselves isn’t working,” I said, glancing at the others. “We have to be a unit. These marks”—I raised my shirt again, revealing the twisting symbols—“have linked us.”

Aria nodded, her eyes tracing the lines on my skin before meeting mine. “We need to protect what’s ours. The world out there.”

“It feels right, doesn’t it?” Seren added softly.

“Being here with you all, especially Aria, is calming the storm inside me,” I admitted. Once I’d tamped down my initial jealousy at seeing her with Eldan, a sense of tranquility had washed over me. Being near Aria eased the restlessness under my skin.

A stillness settled over the room as everyone processed my words. Aria tilted her head to the door and murmured, “Can we step outside for a moment?”

“Sure.” I slipped out of the antechamber into the library. I waited briefly, listening as she asked Seren to make a note of something, and then she caught up to me, rubbing her arms.

“What’s happening? Is it the markings?” I asked.

She nodded. “I’m fine. It’s strange. When you left the room, the painful buzzing started again. But now that we’re next to each other again, it stopped.”

“Is that why you wanted to talk to me? To test out Ilaric’s theory that we’re connected?”

“No,” she said hesitantly, a flush creeping into her cheeks. “Well, maybe a little.” She looked up at me. I didn’t need any psychic connection to read the concern in her eyes.

“What is it? What are you worried about, Aria? You can talk to me.”

She sighed. “Us being pushed together like this…I’m a little concerned about that.”

“Do you think so little of me? Do you think that simply because we have to join forces, I assume that means everything will go back the way it was?” Every ounce of hurt and frustration I’d felt since she rejected me came through in my tone. “Or is it your own impulses you can’t control?”

“No.” She shook her head, the movement making the light catch her long, silver hair. “No, Atticus. That’s not what I?—”

I held up a hand. “Isn’t it? This isn’t about us, Aria. It’s so much bigger than that. Whatever we did during that ritual, we fucked up. If I understand Ilaric correctly,” I continued carefully, “we need to pool our knowledge and resources to understand these powers and find a solution to fix everything. Return the spirits to their realm, protect the Silver Claw, my chosen family, and every magical being in Lycanterra.”

Her gaze bore into mine, as if trying to unearth hidden meanings beneath what I’d said. Yet, there was only one truth to be found. She’d made it painfully clear that her pack would never welcome a rogue, and since she was the alpha, their well-being would always take precedence. I tried to convey the depth of sincerity through this fragile new connection we had, hoping she’d understand it.

“All right,” Aria said after a long pause, extending her hand to shake. “Let’s do this.”

The marks on our arms illuminated as soon as our hands met, as if confirming the agreement. I carefully concealed the emotions her touch stirred within me behind the walls I’d honed through years of experience. Her knowing how I felt about her would only undermine the tentative agreement we’d just reached.

After watching her for a moment longer, I left the library.

When I was halfway down the hall, she called my name, and I stopped. If I was deciphering her emotions through the link correctly, then she felt conflicted about me leaving.

“Sorry,” she said when she reached me. “As soon as you left the room, the pain started up again. I wasn’t ready for it.”

I rubbed my arm. My thoughts had been too consumed with her to notice it fully, but I’d felt the prickling under my skin when I’d left her proximity. Now, it had vanished.

“How about you walk me to the door? That way we can prepare for the impending pain together?” I suggested.

Her nod prompted me to double-check my shields. I didn’t want her to pick up on my joy at the prospect of spending more time in her company, even if only for the length of the hallway.

As I walked home, the chill night air bit my skin, but warmth bloomed inside me. Aria’s emotions thrummed in my mind—so strong it was as if she still walked beside me.

No more hiding in the shadows, feeling sorry for myself. Not when Aria needed protection. Not when there was so much at stake. I could stand by her, fight with her, without claiming her as mine. That was what she deserved.

For the first time since Aria had rejected me, I had hope. Now that I knew we were attuned to each other’s feelings, I understood the deep depression I’d been under wasn’t mine alone. That gave me some relief.

The walk through the forest was uneventful. When I shifted and ran, even my wolf felt freer and happier. Once I reached the edges of our territory, I shifted back into my wolf form and walked through the curtain of greenery that hid the den’s entrance.

“Atticus?” Mia called out as I entered.

“I’m fine,” I replied on autopilot as I moved past her to my room. For the first time in weeks, that wasn’t a lie. Her worried gaze followed me, but I didn’t need coddling. Not anymore.

Alone in my room, the truth settled in my bones. This whole mess wasn’t about me or my feelings. It was about standing guard over Aria and the pack. About facing whatever my father had planned. I’d be the shield, the silent guardian, whether Aria and I were together or not.

That was okay. Because it was Aria. It was always going to be about her.

I uncorked the small vial Mia had left in my room. The murky blue liquid promised rest—at least, I hoped it.

The potion took effect quickly, my limbs growing heavy as I sank into my bed. Sleep tugged at my consciousness, and I welcomed it, craving the void where thoughts and dreams didn’t exist.

The void didn’t come.

Instead, my father’s face materialized from the darkness behind my closed eyelids. His lips were twisted in a snarl, his fangs bared—a predator in human skin. He spoke no words, but his message was clear: he was the Crimson Fang alpha now, and his ambitions were as sharp as his name.

I tried to push back against the dream, to wake myself up, but I was trapped. My father’s presence was oppressive, suffocating, as real as if he was in the room with me.

A growl gurgled in my throat, a rogue’s challenge to an unworthy alpha. No sound escaped. I was voiceless here, powerless to confront him or to protect anyone from his looming threat.

Every nerve inside me ignited. Mia’s potion was meant to keep the dreams at bay. Yet here I was, locked in a silent confrontation with the man who had given me life but no legacy beyond pain and betrayal.

When I finally broke free of the nightmare, it was to a room darkened by night, my sheets twisted around me like shackles. My heart hammered a drumbeat of war against the helplessness the dream had left in its wake.

It was just a dream, I told myself as I lay back down and slowed my breathing. Just a dream that carried the weight of a prophecy yet unfulfilled.