48. Aria

48

ARIA

I strode through the village center, my boots thudding against the worn cobblestones. Gazes followed me, whispers fluttered on the breeze like leaves in a storm. They all saw the absence of the alpha’s mantle around my shoulders. I tucked my hair behind my ear and kept walking.

“Morning, Aria,” a familiar voice called out.

I turned to see a group of pack members huddled close, their expressions ranging from curiosity to distress.

“Morning,” I replied, nodding at them briefly before continuing on my way to retrieve the books and Thea’s journal from my room.

The manor loomed ahead, its grandiose structure suddenly foreign. I felt like an outsider in the only place I had ever called home. I had failed my pack. Pushing my shoulders back, I knew I had to make a decision. I could continue on my path, head down, or I could take a stand and let the people I used to lead know that I was still committed to them, no matter my title.

When I reached the square, I paused and looked up at the fountain. It stood as a monument to victories past, a place where I had once been respected. Now, I climbed onto its edge, feeling the coolness of the stone beneath my fingers.

“Listen up!” My voice echoed off the surrounding buildings. Heads turned, bodies shifted, all attention on me now. “I know you think I have given up on you, but hear this: my title might have changed, but my commitment to this pack hasn’t.”

Murmurs spread through the crowd as more and more of the pack appeared in the square. Watching. Listening.

“Whether I’m your alpha or not, I’m still Aria Winters. I am one of you, a member of the Silver Claw pack. I will continue to fight for this pack, for our future. Nothing has changed for me. Your well-being is, and always will be, my priority. Look around you,” I said, gesturing to our surroundings. “This isn’t just a village, it’s our home and place of belonging. Yes, we’ve seen hard times, but we’ve also known strength. We can and will rebuild.”

Miren stood with Branan and Corin at the back of the crowd, their sneers reflecting their obvious disapproval. It didn’t matter, this speech wasn’t meant for them or any of the other dinosaurs who clung to outdated traditions and biases.

“There is power in our unity, against any threat, any challenge.” I continued. Heads nodded, whispers grew into a chorus of agreement. The scene before me gave me a newfound sense of hope. It was working. They were listening to me, believing me.

“Remember who we are. We’re the Silver Claw pack. We stand strong, we protect our own, and we never back down. We will rise again!”

The gathered crowd howled in response, a sound of solidarity that vibrated through my bones. I stepped down from the fountain, a wide grin on my face.

“Thank you,” I whispered to no one in particular.

“Nice speech,” Eldan said, appearing beside me. His presence was comforting, familiar.

“Thanks.” I let out an exhausted chuckle. “Felt good to get that out.”

“Let’s get you back to the manor,” he suggested, gesturing with a nod.

We walked side by side, his steps matching mine. The air felt lighter, making it easier to breathe.

“The elders made a mistake,” Eldan said firmly. “We won’t let this decision stand. We’ll fix it.”

I glanced at him, the determination on his face taking me by surprise. “You think so?”

“I know so,” he assured me. “You’re meant to lead, and I’m with you. We’ll set this right.”

His words bolstered me, filled me with a renewed sense of purpose. With Eldan by my side, maybe I could face whatever came next. Maybe, just maybe, we’d turn the tide.

I made my way into the manor unhindered and walked up the stairs to my room. The door creaked as I nudged it open, and the familiar sight of Seren gave me a flash of respite. Lorian, with his ghostly glow, was floating by a desk, surrounded by books that smelled of dust and time. Thea’s journal lay among them. Seren looked up at me with eyes ringed with dark smudges, her face drawn tight.

“Miss Aria, do you need anything?” Lorian asked as he drifted closer. “Miss Seren has been up all night researching ways to help you.”

“I’m good, Lorian. Just happy to see you both,” I said, brushing away the tear that betrayed my relief. It felt good to be among friends, especially now.

Seren stood and stepped forward, enveloping me in a warm embrace that somehow managed to push back the chill of dread that had taken up residence in my bones. “I’m so sorry. None of this should be happening. What can I do to help?”

I leaned into the hug for a bit longer before stepping back. “We can’t change what is, only what’s next. Seren, if you are happy to keep helping with research, we have to find a way to release Atticus from the constraints of his father’s oath. I want to read Thea’s journal, learn everything I can about the old magic in Lycanterra. When the ritual went wrong, it’s caused an imbalance that I have to set it right or we’ll never know peace.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

I sat down at the table. Books and papers soon covered every surface of the room as we settled into our research. Lorian darted from shelf to shelf, gathering more texts that might hold the answers we sought.

Thea’s journal lay open between us, its pages filled with an elegant script that spoke of ancient powers and hidden knowledge. I delicately traced her words with the tips of my fingers, the connection with my ancestors deepening with every page I read. Energy thrummed as if the words were whispering to me, giving me hope that maybe, just maybe, we could turn the tide in our favor.

“I think I have something, but I need to decipher these symbols,” Seren blurted, pointing at the page she was reading. “There was a book, but it’s not here.”

“Where is it?” I asked, my pulse speeding up at the possibility of finding another piece to the puzzle.

“Your father’s office,” Seren replied. “We were using it last week. I think we might’ve left it there. It’s the only one bound in green leather.”

“Allow me, Miss Seren,” Lorian asked while arranging books on the shelves.

“No, Lorian, it’s fine. I’ll get it.” I stood up quickly, the chair scraping against the wooden floor. “I need to stretch my legs, anyway.”

Leaving my room, I hurried down the hallway. The door to the office groaned on its hinges as I stepped inside, and it took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. Dust motes floated lazily in the air, caught in the narrow beams of light that managed to breach the gloom. Everything was as it had been, yet now each item felt like a fragment of history—my history. As I moved past the desk, my fingers brushed over the wood worn from years of use.

I wasn’t here for nostalgia, though. The book Seren needed was somewhere on these shelves. We needed it to unravel secrets that could give us an edge against Caius and possibly free Atticus from his clutches.

As I scanned the shelves, the floorboards creaked behind me, announcing the arrival of someone else. His distinct scent filled the air, accompanied by the unmistakable disdain in his voice. I didn’t need to turn to recognize Miren.

“Looking for something in my new office?”

I resisted the urge to engage as the atmosphere shifted, the tension in the room ratcheting up with his presence. “A book,” I said, keeping my tone even, not bothering to hide my intent or dress it up in pleasantries.

Miren prowled the office, his fingers brushing against the objects, solidifying his claim over the space with each deliberate step. He paused by the desk, picking up a small carved wolf and examining it with mock interest.

“This is my office now. You have no business here,” he said haughtily.

I felt the jab, the dismissal. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing it wound me. He set down the carving with a clink and turned toward me, finally looking at me. In that moment, I saw the full extent of his contempt.

“The pack is better off now,” he boasted. “You were always too young. Too inexperienced.”

His words were meant to cut deep, to remind me of my supposed inadequacies. I kept my face impassive, refusing to let him see any cracks in my armor.

“You were always a figurehead, really. Nothing more than your father’s puppet. You should have been mated with Larkin.” He sneered. “Your father was far too lenient with you and the pack. It’s time they were led by someone with a firmer hand.”

His condescending tone was a punch to the gut, but I stood rooted to the spot, my hands clenched at my sides.

“I would be happy to allow you to continue using your rooms. Consider it a gift.”

“Your generosity knows no bounds,” I said through gritted teeth, turning away to search for the book once more. “Every alpha serves their time. I did what I thought was right for the pack. And I’ll continue to do so, with or without the title.”

A sudden chill swept into the room just then, and from the corner of my eye, I caught a bit of movement, a wisp of ethereal light that hadn’t been there before. Lorian. He hovered by the bookshelf, his translucent gaze fixed on Miren. Seren must have wondered where I was and sent Lorian to chase me on.

Miren’s eyes narrowed, his lips curling in disgust. “What is this? Your ghost pet?” he spat out, clearly agitated by Lorian’s silent judgment. “Get out,” he barked, pointing toward the door. “Take your ghost with you. You’re wasting your time with all of this spiritual nonsense.”

Arguing would be pointless, so I kept my attention on the shelves. Finally, I spotted the green leatherbound tome and took it off the shelf. Miren’s disdain pressed down hard, but I kept my spine straight. Without a word, I walked past him, held head high, Lorian’s reassuring presence at my back.

Mirin’s rudeness fueled the fire in me. I would fight for my pack. For Atticus. And I’d start with every clue this book had to offer.

I ran back up to my room and gave Seren the book.

“Are you okay?” she asked, observing the subtle change in my mood as only a longtime friend could.

My magic built restlessly under my skin, matching the agitation Miren and his need to assert dominance had stirred.

“I’m fine, just our new alpha letting me know my place in the pecking order.” I rubbed a hand over my face.

Recognizing the need to let out the pent-up magic, I excused myself and went to the one place in the pack’s grounds I’d be guaranteed no audience.

I walked through the forest and thought of everything Philesia had said in our last training session. My emotions were my strength, so I had to channel this irritation Miren had caused. Fucking idiot.

I inhaled deeply, then exhaled, repeating it until I felt calmer and more in control. When I finally reached the graveyard, I stood in the center, letting the turmoil inside me settle and focused on my magic. Stones marked with ages of wear surrounded me, silent witnesses to my growing strength.

“I enjoyed watching Alpha Thea,” Lorian said, and I jumped, putting a hand to my chest. I hadn’t realized he’d followed me.

“I apologize for startling you. I wonder if I might make some suggestions, Miss Aria?”

I nodded and found a comfortable spot on a weathered tree stump, watching as he floated, translucent and serene, beside me.

“Meditating helped her tap into the deep well of magic. She would search herself, tracing the tendrils of magic, carefully molding them in her mind to suit her exact intentions.”

“That’s kind of like my shielding practices,” I said. Standing, my confidence surged alongside my power. The air buzzed around me, charged with energy that responded to my call.

“Concentrate, Aria,” Lorian said. “Visualize your goal. Let the energy flow through you.”

I closed my eyes and sought that calm center, the eye of my internal storm where my power lay coiled. When I opened my eyes, the world seemed sharper, more defined.

“Good, now reach out with your senses,” Lorian instructed.

My hands lifted of their own accord, palms up to the darkening sky. Focusing on the space above me, I beckoned to the dormant air. At first, there was only a whisper, a suggestion of movement. Then, as if answering my silent command, the breeze picked up. It swirled around me, gaining momentum, a tangible force directed by nothing but my will and the magic coursing through my veins.

“Yes! Just like that,” Lorian exclaimed, his spectral form shimmering with excitement. “See, you’re a natural! Now reach out with your senses. Remember, you control it. Don’t let it control you.”

My hands lifted of their own accord, palms up to the darkening sky. Focusing on the space above me, I beckoned to the dormant air. At first, there was only a whisper, a suggestion of movement. Then, as if answering my silent command, a breeze picked up. It swirled around me, gaining momentum, a tangible force directed by nothing but my will and the magic coursing through my veins.

“Feel it? That’s it, Aria. You’re doing it,” Lorian said.

The leaves spun, creating a cyclone of autumn colors around me. I controlled each one with a thought, my mind racing from the thrill of it. Not all that long ago, I would have been terrified, but now, I was fueled by the success, the newfound steadiness in my grasp of this power.

“Look at you. If those leaves were enemies, they’d be begging for mercy.” Lorian laughed.

“That’s a bit of a stretch.” I chuckled, letting the leaves flutter gently back to the ground. “Anyway, it’s not enemies I’m practicing for.”

My words were steady, my mind clear. I stepped over to a weathered headstone, tracing the name engraved on it. This place, these silent witnesses of time, were part of my legacy, along with the very magic pulsating through my veins.

“Your control is remarkable,” he continued, his form glimmering like a flame in a drafty room. “It’s as if the elements are an extension of your soul.”

I grinned at the praise. It did feel like the wind and earth were part of me, bending to my intention as easily as moving my own limbs. I glanced up at the sky, now a canvas of twilight blues and purples against the setting sun. It was beautiful, serene, a sharp contrast to the insanity that had become my life.

“Let’s try something bigger,” I suggested, feeling that itch for a challenge. I reached out with my senses, feeling for the water in the air, the moisture that lay dormant in the grass and soil.

“Are you sure?” Lorian’s tone shifted, cautious yet curious. He hovered closer, a whisper of history in his translucent gaze.

“Absolutely.” I focused, feeling the magic rise up, a living thing eager to answer my call. With a sweep of my arms, the ground beneath us trembled, and droplets of water rose from the ground, shimmering like a thousand tiny stars against the darkening sky.

“Remarkable,” Lorian said.

“It feels right,” I said. The water danced around us, and I shaped it into forms, figures that twisted and turned in a delicate ballet.

“Your ancestors would be proud. You’re not just preserving their legacy; you’re redefining it.”

I lowered my arms, letting the water splash gently back to the earth. I was grounded, connected, not just to my past, but to the path I was forging ahead.

The last gust of wind settled, and my heart rate slowed. I could almost hear the whooshing of magic in my veins, an echo of newfound harmony.

“Excellent work,” Lorian said, his ghostly form bowing before me. There was no mockery in his gesture, only respect.

I nodded, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the spells I’d cast. “Thanks to you.”

“Only partly.” He straightened, and there was something ancient in his eyes. “You have the spirit of a true leader, Aria. You wield great power.”

“Leader, protector, wielder of great power,” I repeated after him, rolling the words in my mind like pebbles in a stream.

“Exactly.” His words were a soft murmur against the silence of the graveyard. “All those things and more.”

I glanced around at the tombstones, their shadows growing longer as night approached. “It’s a lot to live up to.”

“You will,” Lorian assured me. “You’re ready.”

“Am I?” It wasn’t doubt speaking, just curiosity.

“Without question.” Pride laced his tone, pride directed at me.

“Then I won’t let fear and doubt hold me back. Not anymore.” A smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I looked toward the horizon, where the first stars were starting to twinkle.

“Nor should you,” he agreed. “Fear has no place in the spirit of a champion.”

“Champion, huh?” I liked the sound of that. I turned back to face Lorian. “I guess we’ll see about that.”

I sat on the cold stone of an ancient tomb, my muscles aching. Lorian had long since left me to return to the alpha manor to be with Seren. The graveyard was quiet, my only company the whispering leaves and the small night time critters.

A flicker of darkness caught my eye, and relief surged through me as Atticus materialized from the shadows. His presence was a balm to the raw edges of my soul.

“Atticus,” I breathed out, taking in his rugged appearance. “You okay?”

He nodded as he pulled me against his chest. His familiar scent of pine and earth grounded me. It was a relief to see him after he’d spent time with Caius. My imagination on overdrive at all the evil he could do to Atticus before I could release him from the promise he’d made to secure my release.

“I’ve got so much to tell you,” he said.

I leaned back, searching his ice-blue eyes. They held stories untold, secrets that danced just beyond reach. A sudden urge to know more, to understand the depths of his life, gripped me.

“Take me with you,” I blurted out. “To your quarters in Crimson Fang. I need to see where you are when you’re not here.” I needed to witness every aspect of his existence—the highs and lows, the light and the darkness.

Atticus hesitated, his face grave with shadows of thought I couldn’t fully grasp. “Okay, but you’ll need to be very quiet. No one can know that you’re there.”

I nodded, understanding the gravity of his words. Enemy territory was no place for careless noise.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Always,” I murmured.

The world around us began to blur, edges smudging into an inky void as we stepped into darkness together.

It felt like falling through a dream. Sounds from the graveyard muffled into nothingness, and the chill of the tombstones vanished as we entered a void where cold or heat had no meaning.

“Stay close,” Atticus’s voice echoed in the void, a tether in the enveloping dark.

We emerged from the shadows as suddenly as we’d entered them. His quarters were just a few paces away, dimly lit and silent. My heart raced with anticipation and a twinge of fear. This was his world, a place I’d never seen but had imagined countless times.

As the shadows dissipated, my eyes darted around the room. It was nothing like I’d pictured—no banners of conquest or trophies from battles. Instead, it was almost... ordinary. But that ordinariness didn’t hold my gaze for long.

“Atticus?” My voice faltered as I spotted the woman lounging in the armchair by the window.

She tilted her head, regarding me with mild interest. Her bare feet were curled under her in an effortless display of comfort, the wine in her hand catching the light and casting a deep crimson glow on her features.

“Hello,” she said.

“Who are you?” Something fierce and hot bloomed in my chest.

“Valora,” she repeated, as if my confusion were amusing. “I’m often here.”

“Here?” I echoed, my mind racing. Atticus’s space, his sanctuary, and she claimed it as her own?

“Easy, Aria,” Atticus murmured, putting his hand on my shoulder. But his touch did little to ease the sharp sting of betrayal lancing through me.

The way she carried herself, so effortlessly casual, only fanned the flames of jealousy, pain, and betrayal that swirled inside me, twisting my stomach into a nauseating knot of misery.

“Atticus, who is she? What is she doing here?” My voice broke, the words barely more than a whisper as I struggled to keep control.

“It’s complicated,” he replied, his jaw tightening.

“Complicated,” I repeated as I glanced between them, the unspoken questions burning behind my eyes.