33. Aria

33

ARIA

M y paws pounded on the dirt path, each stride echoing my heartbeat. Ilaric kept pace beside me, his breath steady and even. Mine was ragged, desperate, as I tried to outrun the power growing and morphing inside me.

“Feeling okay?” Ilaric asked in my mind.

“Fine,” I said, pushing harder into the run. My power simmered beneath my skin, a familiar itch that wanted to be unleashed. The brief pause I’d been granted when I tapped into that minuscule reserve of power the previous day now felt like a cruel, mocking tease.

Atticus’s face flashed in my mind along with the memory of him washing the mud gently off my body. He made me feel so safe and cared for. It all tempted me to let go, to dive into that warmth and never look back.

But I couldn’t. That path was fraught with complications we couldn’t afford.

“Slow down ,” Ilaric called out as I surged ahead. “You’re going to burn out.”

“Can’t. Need to feel something else.” Anything to drown out this power that threatened to consume me.

Ilaric fell behind as I propelled myself forward. Philesia would have answers; she had to. Until then, I’d chase the burn, the ache in my muscles, the sweet exhaustion that promised oblivion if only for a moment.

“ Wait! ” Ilaric’s voice trailed after me, tinged with concern.

“ Sorry, can’t stop. ” The wind whipped past as I kept up my frantic place.

I skidded to a halt, chest heaving, my breath ragged. I turned back, watching for Ilaric, irritation gnawing at me. Why couldn’t he keep up? I shifted onto two legs, and paced, each step filled with a sharp apprehension. The energy had gone from humming under my skin to slashing at my insides, desperate for release. I clenched my fists to fight it, to stop the pounding of my heart. Rain started to speckle my face. I looked up, squinting against the droplets. Dark clouds had gathered like an omen.

“Come on, Ilaric, hurry the fuck up,” I muttered under my breath.

Ilaric finally caught up, his breaths deep and even. He was hardly winded. Had he even tried? He shifted from his enormous wolf into the man who’d always been a secondary father to me.

“You’re pushing yourself too hard. Let’s head back. You need to rest.”

I shook my head, about to argue, but he was right. I desperately needed rest to soothe the tempest raging inside me.

“Okay,” I relented. “Let’s go back.”

We trudged back through the forest, the drizzle clinging to my skin until I finally broke the silence that had settled between us. “I can’t just lie low. I called a pack meeting at the pack village.”

“Is that wise?” he asked.

“Better than keeping them in the dark,” I said. “My father might have thrived on that, but it’s not how I choose to lead. I’m sure there are questions. I want to be as honest with the pack as I can.”

He nodded and something like pride flickered in his eyes. “You’re doing right by them. Your parents... they’d be proud.”

“Thanks,” I said, though doubt gnawed at me. I pushed the feeling aside. Damn it, I needed a distraction, something to take my mind off the expanding power.

Remembering the glances he’d shared with Mia in the clearing after our failed meeting with the seer, I asked. “So, tell me about Mia?”

He smiled hesitantly. “Mia’s... she’s special. Really special.”

“She’s reliable and genuine. I like her.” It was disheartening to acknowledge that I had failed to notice the blossoming romance between them. “Not much of an alpha, am I? I’ve been too wrapped up in myself to even notice.”

Ilaric grabbed my arm and stopped me. “Do you think your father was aware of every detail about every member of the pack when he was alive?”

Frowning, I desperately tried to decipher his expression, contemplating every word he’d just said. “Of course he knew what was happening. He was alpha.”

Ilaric’s laughter boomed out of him, reverberating along the path. His amusement left him more breathless than our run. “Child, you have so much to learn. Your father was a good alpha. He had his own methods and ideologies that I didn’t always agree with, but he was fair. However, one thing is certain: he did not know everything about the pack. His advisors were there to keep him updated, because he couldn’t be everywhere at once.”

I experienced a crushing disappointment in my chest. “You mean the old farts who keep advising me about what a failure I am? How Larkin should be leading the pack? Those advisors?”

All traces of merriment left his face, “You listen here, and you listen good, Aria Lysandra Winters. Do not allow those relics to pull you down. Their out-of-touch attitudes and judgmental snobbery stems from their own lack of relevance and modernity. The forest is in a flux. Prophecies? Rituals? You’ve already accomplished so much in your short life. We’re witnessing events beyond anything I’ve ever known. You are going to be a formidable force. You won’t be just a good alpha, Aria, you’re destined to be an exceptional alpha. You have your own advisors now.”

The relief his words brought was almost tangible, a welcome contrast to the fear that had so suddenly clutched me. Despite knowing Ilaric didn’t share the old advisors’ ideals, sometimes emotions had a way of overriding reason.

“I have one advisor,” I said. “You.”

“What do you call Eldan and Seren, then? Teapots? Aren’t they your council?”

Smiling, I acknowledged his truth. I had barely given any thought to creating my own council, yet I’d achieved it without realizing it. I had surrounded myself with people who understood why we were following the path I’d set us on, and that was important.

The revelation that my father had flaws added depth to my understanding of him as a man. His sudden, gruesome death had left a lasting impact on me. I’d not only lost my father but also countless years of wisdom and practical know-how that would have been invaluable in my position as the pack leader. Then again, if his council’s reaction to the way I was moving the pack forward was any indication, my father wouldn’t have approved. As I mulled that over, his last words came to my mind. Choose the heart’s path. Perhaps his advisors weren’t as attuned to my father’s wants as I thought.

Deciding to shift the focus, I changed the subject. “So, you were telling me how special Mia is?”

Ilaric studied me for a minute before he spoke. “Mia and I have been taking our time getting to know each other. We have been even before your father’s death. You and Atticus were dealing with so much that we decided it was best to keep it to ourselves at first, not wanting to divert your attention. Then, finding the right time to share it with you became increasingly difficult. Selfishly, I must admit, it was nice to have Mia all to myself.” A small smile tugged at his lips.

“Is it serious?” I asked.

“You’ve heard all you need to, Aria. I don’t need to tell you every detail about my life.”

And he was right, he didn’t have to tell me anything.

The brief interlude had been enough to take the edge off the buzzing, though it was on its way to building right back up again. The village center loomed ahead, a hive of early morning activity despite the persistent drizzle. I wasn’t ready to answer their questions just yet, not before the pack meeting this afternoon, so I pulled my hood closer around my face, an attempt at anonymity, which really was futile. Ilaric stayed beside me, his presence a silent support.

“Let’s take the side path,” I muttered, hoping to slip by unnoticed.

“Too late,” Ilaric said quietly. “They’ve seen you.”

Heads turned in my direction, and whispers cut through the rain like knives. There was no escaping it. As alpha, I was the flame to their moth. I pushed forward, trying to weave through the clusters of wet bodies and murmuring voices.

“Good morning, Alpha Aria,” someone called out.

“Good morning,” I replied without stopping, the flat note of my voice lost in the patter of rain.

“Alpha, will there be…” another started, but I didn’t let them finish.

“Later,” I said with raised hand. Not now. Not when I could barely contain the power building inside me.

“Is everything all right?” Their concern was genuine, but it grated against my frayed nerves.

“Fine,” I managed to say, though the lie tasted bitter. “Just focused on today’s meeting.”

“Of course, Alpha,” they responded, though I couldn’t see who spoke. My attention was on the ground, watching my steps instead of the faces around me.

“Keep moving,” Ilaric urged gently, and I did, putting one foot in front of the other, my mind a swirl of locked-down power.

“Alpha, will the meeting address the border issues?” a man shouted.

I tried to nod, to muster some semblance of assurance, but my head felt like it was stuffed with wool.

“Yes,” I croaked out, but no more words followed. My throat constricted as if the very air was strangling me.

“Are you sure okay, Alpha?” a woman asked.

“Fine,” I lied once more in a whisper. Murmurs spread through the pack like wildfire, their whispers flickering around me, stoking the chaotic energy. I couldn’t focus. Everything in me was begging to be let out.

“Step back, give her space,” Ilaric said loudly, but it was too late. Their fear was palpable, hanging heavy between us. They’d seen me lose control before, but not like this. Not with such immense power crackling under my skin.

“Sorry,” I muttered, though they couldn’t possibly understand the magnitude of the storm I was holding back. My feet shuffled, betraying my agitation as I fought to keep the magic at bay.

With the worst timing imaginable, my dad’s elders edged closer, three pairs of eyes sizing me up. My chest tightened at their arrival, each breath a struggle.

“Is this how our new alpha presents herself to her pack? Unstable and erratic?” Elder Branan said as he stared at me with no sympathy in his gaze, just cold judgment.

I gritted my teeth. “I’m managing,” I forced out, my voice far steadier than I was. Anger welled up in response to his criticism, but there was a persistent doubt too. Maybe they saw something I didn’t—or something I didn’t want to admit.

“Managing?” he repeated, skepticism etched into every syllable. “We need strength, not excuses.”

I wanted to shout, to unleash the fury and prove him wrong, but I tamped it down. “I am strong.”

“Enough.” Ilaric stepped in front of me. I glanced at him, caught off guard by the firmness in his tone. “Branan, now is not the time. Aria is more than capable of leading this pack. What she needs is our support and understanding, not baseless criticism.”

Branan’s eyes narrowed, his mouth moving into a thin line. There was an unfamiliar defiance in Ilaric’s stance that I’d never seen before. With his shoulders squared, he looked every bit the warrior I knew him to be.

The crowd stirred, Muttering among themselves. They weren’t used to seeing Ilaric challenge an elder. Hell, neither was I.

“She’s going through a difficult time, as we all are. We lost the alpha. Aria lost her father. What she needs from her pack, from her elders, is space and trust.” Ilaric held each elder’s gaze, unblinking.

“Space and trust, yeah,” someone in the crowd repeated. A murmur of agreement swept through the pack members gathered around us. Heads nodded, and a few voices called out their support.

“Stand with Aria!” another shouted, emboldened by Ilaric’s words.

A small glimmer of hope ignited, defiantly battling against the raging storm within my body. My lips parted, but no words came out. I didn’t need them. Ilaric had said enough. And for once, I let someone else speak for me.

As the last of the murmurs died down and the crowd began to disperse, Ilaric’s gaze lingered on me, reading my turmoil as if it were his own.

“Come with me,” he said, as he tightly gripped my hand and led me towards the forest. We veered off the path, venturing into a hidden hollow that shielded us from prying eyes.

“Maybe you should try working with the water,” he suggested quietly. “It might help.”

I hesitated, the fear of losing control gnawing at me. But not doing anything wasn’t an option anymore. Water had always been my trusted companion, but now it seemed untamed, a wild beast I wasn’t certain I could control.

“Okay,” I murmured, more to convince myself than him.

With my eyes closed, I stepped into the rain. The cool droplets caressed my skin, their individual rhythms connecting to the inherent power flowing through my veins. It was a slow dance at first, a gentle pull that brought unexpected relief. The water responded, and I rejoiced in the harmony—the balance—as I used more and more of the magic.

“See? You can do this,” Ilaric encouraged, but he faltered as I drew in yet more power.

The rain obeyed my command, swirling into a vortex around me. It was exhilarating, the raw surge of might flowing through me, begging to be unleashed. I couldn’t help but smile. This felt good. Almost too good. The rain danced and twirled around me. The more power I used, the more it dampened the electrifying surge of power that had filled my being.

Ilaric’s expression shifted from supportive to worried. He stepped forward, his hand outstretched, then pulled back. He knew better than to interrupt when the elements were at play.

“Easy. Don’t push too hard,” he warned, but it was too late.

The sky answered my call, the winds howling their allegiance to me as I let go, releasing more of the pent-up magic. The world became a haze of motion, lightning cracking the sky open above us. My heart pounded, thunderous, matching the chaos I’d unleashed.

The air crackled with a wild current I couldn’t seem to cage. Thunder boomed, sending a rush through my veins. It was intoxicating, a liberation from the confines of my mind. I was untethered, boundless. No worries or fears, only me and the rain becoming one. But then Ilaric’s voice rose over the roar.

“Aria, stop! This is getting out of hand! I need to get clear! I’m… worse… don’t…” I couldn’t make out his shouts above the deluge of rain.

His words stung sharper than the lashing rain. I never meant to frighten him, to become something to flee from. How had it come to this? Desperation clawed at me, and I begged for the control I’d long since lost grasp of.

“Go!” I shouted over the tempest. “I don’t want to hurt you!”

He nodded, his face a mask of worry, before he turned and sprinted away. The sight of his retreating back tightened something in my chest—a reminder of the pain I seemed to inflict on the ones I loved most. Then I was alone with the fury of the storm of my own making, and no fucking clue how to stop it.

It was too much, all-consuming, and the ground trembled in agreement. With a sudden burst of energy, lightning forked down from the dark sky, searing the earth.

That’s when I heard it, a melody against the storm’s discordance—Atticus’s whistle.

I lifted my gaze and there he was, struggling against the wind, reaching out to me.

No, not him, too.

I shook my head fiercely, panic surging.

“Go back!” I screamed, but the thunder swallowed my words. “Don’t come closer!”

My heart hammered, terror-laden, as another bolt slashed the sky, illuminating the determination on his face. I didn’t want him here, not in the middle of this. I couldn’t bear the thought of harming him, yet he kept coming, undeterred by the danger.

“Stay away!” I gestured, but he kept marching closer, his arm outstretched against the vicious wind.

The distance between us vanished as he covered the ground with resolute strides. Suddenly he was there, holding me close, his warmth spreading through my body, seeping into my bones. Then everything went black.

Darkness engulfed me, shadows dancing around me like specters. Something sharp tugged inside me, pulling at my very core. I fought against it, waging a battle between the power I’d summoned and the reality I may have shattered.

“Did I hurt anyone?” The words were lost in the void. Was it over? Had I killed myself and taken everyone with me? Panic surged. That couldn’t be right. I could still feel Atticus’s embrace, steady and warm, but he shouldn’t be here, not in the eye of my hurricane.

“Let go,” I pleaded, pushing against him with all the strength I had left. “Save yourself from this. From me.”

But he was unyielding, my anchor in the swirling dark.

“Please.” My voice broke, but he remained, a lighthouse amid the torrential sea, guiding me back from the edge of the abyss.

The darkness flickered away like a snuffed candle, and my eyes snapped open. We were in the rogue forest, the river’s scent heavy in the air, its rushing sound mingling with the howling wind. I was the storm, uncontainable, raw power coursing through me, wild as the gale tearing leaves from their branches.

“Free,” I gasped, the word ripped away by the tempest. For once, it was all me, no strings, no control but mine. But flashes of Seren’s smile and Ilaric’s defiance intruded, reminders of bonds that still tethered me to a world I feared I was tearing apart.

“Atticus,” I choked out, his name a lifeline. His arms were around me, real and solid, yet he should have been running, escaping the destruction I’d become.

“Stop!” I tried to shout over the roar, but it was useless. He wouldn’t hear me, couldn’t hear me. The water from the river danced in a frenzy, snaking around us, obscuring the ground. Trees bent and snapped, their roots no match for the fury of my power.

“Please,” I begged as lightning split the sky, each strike a thunderous heartbeat. Atticus clung to me, a silent promise that he wouldn’t let go, even as the earth trembled under my assault.