4. Aria

4

ARIA

T he forest bordering my pack’s territory was a familiar embrace. But as I trudged through its dense underbrush on my way to Silver Claw lands for the ceremony, my thoughts refused to settle on anything other than the rogue wolf.

Even now, I could feel the phantom caress of his gaze, haunting and penetrating, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. His wildness, that untamed intensity that spoke of freedom and raw power, lured me like the scent of forbidden prey. It was exhilarating, terrifying... addictive.

Every rustle in the undergrowth called with the allure of the unknown, tempting me to veer off the worn trail I knew so well. The rogue had stirred something primal in me, awakening a hunger I didn’t dare acknowledge. Yet, the safety of the familiar called out to me as well, like a beacon leading me towards stability and certainty.

As I neared the clearing that marked the boundary of my home, my internal bluster quieted to an uneasy calm. The rogue’s face lingered at the periphery of my consciousness. What was it about him that pulled me to him? Was it the thrill of danger he represented, or the allure of a life less ordinary?

Sighing, I stepped into the open, the last rays of the setting sun warming my face and banishing the chill in my bones. Home. The word should have brought comfort, but instead, it was a heavy chain around my neck, one I wasn’t sure I wanted to bear any longer.

After making my way to my private rooms, I collapsed onto my bed.

After a moment, the door to my chamber creaked open, and Tati slipped inside with the stealth of a seasoned spy. I watched her approach, the ceremonial dress draped over her arms, silver threads shimmering with each step she took toward me. Silver gown to match my eyes and hair for the Silver Claw pack, blah, blah, blah.

“Let’s get you ready, dear,” she urged me on with that blend of affection and no-nonsense that had guided me through countless trials and tribulations since when my mother was no longer here to do it.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. A silent revolution stirred inside. What a grand charade this night would be. My heart raced, betraying the turmoil that churned beneath my cool exterior. I sat up, and the pit in my stomach twisted tighter at the thought of the performance I was expected to give, the elaborate dance where every step had been choreographed by tradition and expectation.

“Isn’t all of this a bit much for a simple meeting?” I gestured to the gown and the array of accessories laid out on the vanity.

Tati looked at me in the mirror, her eyes soft yet piercing. “You know this is more than that.” She held up the dress, allowing the silk to unfurl between us. “This is about your future, the stability of the pack, and Larkin’s role.”

I exhaled sharply and turned away from her knowing look. “I am to be alpha. My obligation is to lead, not to be led to the altar like some prize to be claimed.” My fingers grazed the soft fabric of the dress. Its beauty was undeniable, but it was just another weight that would suffocate me.

“Your parents made their choices,” Tati reminded me gently, pulling the gown over my head with practiced ease. “And you’ve always known this day would come.”

“With Larkin,” I said flatly as she fiddled with my hair.

“Who is a lucky man.” Tati stepped back to admire her handiwork. “There. You are beautiful. So like your mother.”

I glanced at her in the mirror once more, seeing the blend of encouragement and empathy that had always been her gift to me. She knew my nerves were frayed, could probably smell the anxiety rolling off me in waves.

“Thank you,” I whispered. Her compliment meant more to me than I cared to admit. “But it’s not just about looking the part, is it?”

“Never has been.” She placed a delicate necklace around my throat, the cool metal a contrast to her warm touch. “You have the calling of your mother and the wisdom of your father. It is your responsibility to lead this pack with a mate at your side.”

“Even if that mate has been chosen for me?” I asked.

“Even then,” Tati agreed. “Because ultimately, it is up to you to shape your own fate. Whatever path you journey in the future, you will not walk it alone.”

Her words enveloped me, bringing tranquility to the chaos. I stood, the silk gown cascading down to pool at my feet, and faced the woman who had been both guardian and confidante throughout my life.

“Then let’s not keep them waiting.” Defiance surged through my veins. It was a performance, yes, but I had the leading role. And as the alpha-to-be of the Silver Claw pack, I would face whatever came with the determination that ran in my blood, whether it be a rogue wolf’s challenging ideals or a mate I did not choose.

The gown grew heavier with each step I took toward the grand meeting hall. The material hugged my body tightly and whispered over the floor with a gentle hiss that might have been soothing if not for the clamor raging inside my head. Tonight was more than just a meeting. It was the unveiling of my future. A future bound to Larkin, a man who had never stirred any passion in me.

I pushed open the double doors and stepped into the grandeur of the pack’s gathering place. The sheer magnificence of it struck me anew each and every time. The high, vaulted ceiling stretched upwards, lost in shadows that danced just out of reach, as if taunting me with their freedom. The walls showcased our lineage with shields and banners emblazoned with the pack’s emblem, each a silent custodian of our collective influence and capability. Engraved into the stone, crests of past alphas ruled over the room, their gazes following me with an intensity that shattered my calm demeanor. Every pillar in the room bore the symbols of our heritage, their intricate carvings demanding a reverence I wasn’t sure I could muster.

Turning my back on them, I focused on the beautiful tapestries that adorned the walls. The vibrant threads wove stories of valor and victory, each stitch a reminder of our pack’s unrivaled history. In one scene, a ferocious battle raged with bared fangs and raised hackles, a savage dance of survival in the pursuit of dominance. Another depicted a gathering of alphas, their heads bowed in a solemn pact that had sealed the fate of our lineage.

As I stood surrounded by echoes of the past, the present nipped at my heels with sharp, impatient teeth, reminding me of my impending performance.

No. I had to shake this melancholy. I wasn’t some damsel in a tapestry, waiting to be saved. I was the alpha-to-be.

With those thoughts racing through my mind, I gathered my courage and stepped farther into the space. This night would be pivotal. It could change the course of everything.

I moved through the vast open area before the dais, dreading each moment.

“Ah, Aria.”

I turned, my gown swirling around me as Ilaric approached. His hair, once a deep black, now bore the dignified touch of time with streaks of gray at the edges.

“You look every bit the future alpha,” he said. It was meant as a compliment, a subtle nod to my position in this hierarchy.

“Thank you,” I said.

Ilaric was the north star in the constellation of my life, guiding me through the darkness when the burden of leadership became too much. He regarded me with those perceptive eyes of his that had witnessed leaders come and go, as well as the ebbs and flows of authority. The wisdom on his face was proof of the years he’d stood by my side and helped shape me into the alpha I was becoming.

“You wear it well,” Ilaric said kindly. “But remember, it’s not just about appearances.” He touched my shoulder, his hand rough and calloused from a lifetime of labor and weathered by countless seasons. “True leadership comes from within. It’s in your spirit and the connections you forge.”

“I know,” I said. “And I’m ready to lead.” I locked onto his gaze and stared him down with the determination that heated my blood. The air around us thrummed with the unspoken understanding that this night would alter the course of my life forever.

A discordant note struck a chord within me.

“This is nothing more than a performance rather than a true step toward leadership,” I said, looking around and motioning to the opulence. “Beautiful, but confining,” I murmured. I was to be paraded before my pack, bound by chains of tradition and expectation. My father had choreographed each move I made, and each smile I gave was an act I’d perfected since childhood.

Ilaric’s face softened. “It’s a dance,” he explained. “One that all leaders must learn.” He understood my inner turmoil. He’d spent a lifetime seeing young wolves such as myself stumble and rise. “But never forget, while you must dance to the pack’s tune, you can still lead the steps.”

His words brought a sense of comfort that was both unfamiliar and yet strangely comforting.

“I just wish the steps weren’t so predetermined.” I allowed my vulnerability to surface with the confession. Inside me, where the wild wolf paced restlessly, was a yearning to break free from the choreography laid out by generations before me. To find my own rhythm in the dance of leadership.

Ilaric nodded slowly and deliberately. “Predetermined or not, nothing is set in stone. You can carve your own future from the bedrock of tradition.”

His words lingered like a potent scent on the wind, stirring a primal reaction from me.

“Life has a way of surprising us,” he added, his eyes twinkling with a mystery I yearned to explore.

As Ilaric was whisked away by another member of the pack, I ended up adrift in the sea of bodies filling the grand meeting hall. I needed an anchor, a touchstone, something solid to hold on to in the swirling chaos of this elaborate spectacle. I searched the throng, seeking familiar faces.

There they were. Seren and Eldan. Thank goodness. From across the room, Seren grinned widely.

“You’ve got this, Aria. Larkin is lucky to have you. You’re going to do amazing things together,” she said softly in my mind.

I appreciated the sentiment, just not the reality.

Eldan’s steady gaze met mine, his nod reassuring. His crooked smile added a playful touch to the humor in his voice. “ Tati did a great job making you look good, huh? How long did that take? I was laying odds on you walking in wearing your training gear.”

I struggled to stifle a grin at that, knowing he was only half-kidding. Everyone knew I wasn’t one for finery. My friends’ presence fortified me against the tide of uncertainty, a reminder that I wasn’t alone.

The thrum of anticipation pulsed through the grand meeting hall, a force that seemed to vibrate beneath my skin. The voices of the elders and other pack members melded into a symphony of expectation. From the periphery, I observed the exchanges as torches danced against the walls, creating a mystical, ethereal ambiance. I forced myself to focus on the tangible—the plush carpet underfoot, the whisper of my dress as I moved, the scent of food waiting to be served.

Larkin stepped forward, drawing every eye in the room. The breadth of his shoulders cut a sharp silhouette against the backdrop of the dais. He stood with the certainty of one who had never questioned his place in the world. His brown hair was pulled back to reveal the stark angles of a warrior’s face.

His gaze swept over the crowd. He radiated a raw, magnetic pull, commanding attention without uttering a single word. It was clear that Larkin belonged to this world. A world that seemed increasingly alien to my own restless spirit.

He caught me watching him across the room, and for a fraction of a second, there was a silent acknowledgment between us, an understanding that we were two people caught in an orbit not of our choosing. Resistance surged through me like a riptide, but I had to admit the undeniable presence he held.

As I stepped forward, the pack’s attention fixed on me. My father spoke from across the grand meeting hall, his presence as striking as ever.

“Tonight marks the dawn of a new chapter for our illustrious pack.”

I tensed, a silent scream echoing inside my skull as I fought to keep my expression impassive. Anxiety clawed at the fringes of my composure as relentless waves of panic crashed over me. My father looked at me with pride and expectation.

“It is with great honor that I formally announce the mating arrangement between my daughter, Aria Winters, and Larkin Ranger,” he announced. “May this union fortify our ranks and promise a future ripe with prosperity.”

Cheers and howls from the gathered pack filled the air, their jubilant voices vibrating through the hall. The sound was both deafening and distant, much like the earlier thunderstorm. Through the sea of jubilant faces, I caught sight of Seren. She gave me a thumbs-up, a hopeful expression on her face.

I heard her voice in my mind say, “You look so good together.” It only added to the dread that was overwhelming me,

Then Larkin moved toward me with the confidence of a man who had never been rejected. I took his offered hand, my touch that of an automaton’s, devoid of feeling save for the dread that slithered across my skin. His warm grip did nothing to thaw my icy veins.

“You look gorgeous,” he said. “Together, we will lead this pack to greatness.”

His words should have bolstered me, filled me with pride for what we could achieve, but they only intensified the sickening urge to vomit all over his impeccable suit. His breath caressed my ear, making me quiver—not from desire, but from the knowledge that my fate was no longer my own.

The rhythmic pulse of ceremonial music enveloped us. Larkin’s hand at the small of my back was a light touch, his fingers brushing against my dress, yet it felt like he was smothering me with our pack’s entire history. His other hand clasped mine, guiding me in movements that should have been graceful, but made me feel like a clumsy puppet whose strings were chains.

“Smile for me,” he murmured, his voice barely audible against my ear. “You have such a beautiful smile.”

Gross. The words were meant to be tender, but it came across as a demand. Smile, perform, be the perfect alpha female. Be his trophy. I forced my lips into something I hoped resembled joy, but inside, my spirit bucked like a wild stallion.

With each step of the dance, the walls seemed to press closer, suffocating me. The air had thickened, become syrupy and cloying, making it hard to breathe. My chest tightened, panic clawing up my throat with every shallow breath I managed to draw.

In desperation, I looked around at the assembled pack members, seeking an ally. Everyone’s faces were a blur of excitement and pride. No one was aware of the turmoil churning inside me. Seren and Eldan’s supportive words from earlier flashed through my mind, but that support felt distant and disconnected, both physically and emotionally.

“Relax. You’re safe here,” Larkin said, mistaking my distress for nerves. His voice was calm, soothing even, but it was no balm for the wound he couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

“Of course,” I managed to whisper. I tried to focus on the steps, on the smooth, polished floor beneath my feet, desperately seeking something to anchor myself and keep the wave of panic at bay.

Then, amid the screaming of my own thoughts, a voice murmured. A deep whisper that resonated to the very marrow of my bones.

“Breathe.”

I blinked, the command so clear and authoritative, it could not be ignored. I sucked in a breath, the air filling my lungs with sweet relief.

“Breathe,” the voice said again.

My frayed nerves slowly started to knit back together, a semblance of calm clearing my vision and steadying my pulse.

It was impossible. It was completely, utterly impossible. But that voice… I’d heard it before. It belonged to him . The rogue whose eyes had shone with a feral intensity. How could he be here, in our pack’s most sacred space, speaking directly into my mind? I scanned the crowd, flitting over blurred faces as I sought out the impossible.

He had no place here, in the Silver Claw’s stronghold. But his presence was as tangible as Larkin’s heavy hand resting on my waist.

How? Why? The questions spun a dizzying web in my head, each ensnaring me in confusion and wonder. The rogue was an enigma, wrapped in the mystery of the forest where we met, but this… this was beyond comprehension.

My wolf—the rebellious part of my soul, the part that yearned for freedom—bade me to find him. And so I continued my search, scanning the throng, desperate for a hint, a sign, anything that might explain the inexplicable.

My anxiety started to rise again, this time overwhelmed by the bodies around me as I searched for the man who had left me feeling partially unhinged. The voice echoed from the confines of my mind again.

“Breathe , ” his voice once again cut through the chaos.

I followed his lead and inhaled deeply.

A disturbance in the shadows suddenly grabbed my focus, making me pause. There, where light and darkness danced, a form lurked, nearly invisible to the untrained eye. I focused, and the shadow coalesced into the unmistakable outline of the rogue.

Cloaked in obscurity, he was a ghost in the revelry. The dim glow of the alcove seemed to shy away from him, yet there he stood. My heart clenched at the sight of him, the rogue wolf who had dared to infiltrate our stronghold. His figure was faint, but now that I was aware of his presence, I couldn’t not see him. What power did he have to hide in plain sight this way?

The clamor of the pack’s celebration became a distant hum, as though I stood at the cliff’s edge of the world, staring across an insurmountable chasm. But in that void, there was a tether, an anchor in the form of piercing ice-blue eyes that held mine and seared straight through the chaos.

“Who are you?” I asked. “What is your name?”

“Atticus.”

His name danced through my mind like a secret, offering me a silent sanctuary from across the crowded room. His gaze didn’t falter, didn’t mock or pity. It understood the clash between duty and desire, the longing for freedom that relentlessly tormented my soul. His silent message resonated deeply, an unspoken connection that conveyed a wealth of meaning. I was not alone.

I drew in a breath, one shaky inhale that seemed to drag the oxygen from every corner of the hall. As if his unseen support was a lifeline thrown into raging waters, the panic that had threatened to consume me receded. The rope of terror that had wound around my throat loosened thread by thread, until its frayed edges unraveled altogether.

The moment I straightened my back and rolled my shoulders, the silver gown no longer felt constricting. Instead, it became a dazzling armor, the light reflecting off its intricate embroidery. As insane as it was, the rogue’s presence seemed to weave a veil of might around me. There was a comfort in knowing that even as I stood on the precipice of a future not of my choosing, I was seen. Not as a pawn in the pack’s grand design but as Aria, a being of wild spirit and fierce heart.

The pack’s focus shifted from Larkin and me to the elders as they raised their glasses in a toast to the future. Seizing the opportunity of Larkin’s momentary distraction, I stole a quick glance back at the alcove where the rogue had been. But Atticus was gone, vanished as though he was never there.

My brow furrowed in confusion. His sudden appearance and even more abrupt departure left me reeling. How could he just appear and disappear? The alcove was bathed in the same golden light that filled the rest of the grand hall, offering no sanctuary for anyone to hide. Nothing remained of the rogue who had somehow pierced the chaos to reach me and still the tumult in my soul with his silent words.

Who was this enigmatic wolf who could vanish into thin air and speak directly into my soul? What did he want with me? And why now, amid the spectacle of my mating announcement, a ceremony that overwhelmed me with a sense of confinement rather than joy?