8. Aria

8

ARIA

D awn crept through the forest, disturbing the serenity of the night. Ilaric was waiting for me at the border of our territory, exactly where I hoped he’d be. He always knew when I needed him.

“Morning,” I greeted. The night before, I’d decided to talk to him and get his perspective on all this.

“Good morning,” Ilaric replied. We began our walk, treading lightly on the mossy path that wound through the woods.

Just knowing I had someone to share my troubles with eased the knot of worry in my belly and left me feeling lighter. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately.”

“About?” he asked, patient as time itself.

“Responsibilities.” The word rolled off my tongue. “Being the future alpha, the struggles and hardships in our pack, and...”

My throat tightened around the name I hesitated to speak, but it pushed past my lips, regardless. “Atticus.”

“Ah,” Ilaric said.

“And there’s a prophecy.” The confession was a release of pent-up steam, and I told him what Atticus had said. “Since Atticus told me about it, it’s become this imposing force that seems to be tracking me, whispering about enigmatic concepts just beyond my reach.” I shook my head, trying to dispel the uncertainty.

“Talking about it helps, doesn’t it?” he inquired, his quiet demeanor offering no judgment.

“More than you know,” I said with a small smile. Shared burdens and all that. Voicing my fears made them less monstrous, more like phantoms that might vanish at the touch of daylight.

As the sun rose, nature came alive around us. Ilaric and I followed the meandering path, the joyful chirping of birds serenading us. Even with his advanced age, his tall frame moved with an easy grace beside me.

“You must clear your mind.” His soft whisper hung between us. “Prophecies are only threads of possibility. They feed on the energy you give them, fear, belief, doubt.”

“Then do you believe it’s real?” My question hung between us like mist above the forest floor.

He paused and looked at me. The nod that came was subtle but certain. The simple gesture sent ripples through the still waters of my thoughts. “Clarity. It is both your shield and your guide.”

The sun painted the sky with strokes of lavender and rose as Ilaric and I reached the fork in the trail.

“Trust yourself,” he said. “Your power is vast, but it’s your heart that will steer you.”

I turned to him, the echo of our earlier conversation lingering between us. “And if my heart leads me astray?” My fingers fidgeted with the hem of my cloak.

“Our instincts have a voice that fear can never mimic.” He looked at me intently. “Wisdom, compassion… those are the markers of true leadership. Learn to discern them from the whispers of doubt.”

With a nod, I stepped away, leaving Ilaric at the crossroads. The stillness of the morning enveloped me once more, granting me privacy to process his counsel.

I wandered toward the garden. There, under the protective boughs of an old oak, lay my mother’s resting place. Kneeling before her gravestone, I traced the name engraved onto the weathered surface. Mona.

“Your wisdom runs through my veins, yet I find myself adrift,” I said to the silence. My fingertips lingered on the stone, seeking a connection to the woman who had once been my anchor.

I closed my eyes as a tear fell, its warmth contrasting with the coolness of the air, followed by another and another, each one tracing a path down my cheek until I was sobbing. Here, in this sacred space, I could lower my defenses. The presence of the pack, most notably my father, always forced me to conceal my vulnerabilities, but in this space, I could finally be myself and grieve for my mother.

She had been the heart of our pack. But her own heart had faltered, succumbing to a rare and cruel illness. It began with a fatigue that none could explain, a gradual wane of vitality that no shifter should have suffered.

“Unexplainable,” they had said, the healers with their perplexed expressions and exotic tinctures. All of them had been summoned in desperation to thwart an unseen foe. Yet, despite their wisdom, their magic, their potions brewed from the rarest herbs, they’d found nothing. No cure. And so she faded, our luna, my mother, leaving behind a void that could never be filled again.

Shifters were known for resilience, for bodies hewn from raw strength. To witness one of our own—a luna, no less—wither away was a portent that unsettled the deepest foundations of our beliefs. We’d watched in dismay as the once-vibrant, magical forest slowly deteriorated around us, its life force diminishing. The spirits, who had always been so generous in granting the gift of new life, now seemed unwilling to bestow their blessings. The declining birth rates among shifters and the growing absence of the spirits perplexed the elders. It hinted at a discordance in the world, a thread fraying in the tapestry of our magic.

What illness could rob a shifter of their vitality and make them just as fragile as any mortal being? In the somber hues of morning, I felt the first stirrings of suspicion, a niggling doubt that perhaps we were not merely victims of a tragic anomaly but participants in a larger design, one tied with threads of a prophecy yet to be fully understood.

The weight of my responsibility as the future alpha bore down on me, the conflicting emotions I felt for Atticus adding another layer of complexity. The prophecy he had mentioned cast a cloud of uncertainty over everything.

Drained from crying, I settled into the peaceful stillness of the graveside. “So much is happening, Mom. I’ve never needed you more,” I admitted softly, longing for my mother’s comforting presence, holding on to the hope that, in some way, she could offer me guidance from across the veil.

A breeze stirred a brush of reassurance against my cheek. I would face the unknown and draw strength from the legacy of a luna who had been admired for her strength and grace.

With a newfound strength, I pushed aside the grief and sorrow. A determination born of love and loss, of fate and dread, settled in my bones. I tucked away the tendrils of the mystery. Whatever secrets lay hidden in the folds of the forest, in the legacy of my lineage, I would uncover them.

I placed a hand-picked bouquet of wildflowers on my mother’s grave. Tracing her name one last time on the cold stone, I let out a heavy sigh before reluctantly turning away and leaving the clearing.

Filled with a sense of purpose, I returned to the house, determined to uncover whatever I could about the prophecy. Knowledge was power. Wasn’t that what they said? Whoever “they” were. I needed a solid foundation of support to tackle the challenges that awaited, and I was determined not to face them alone.

I had a strong desire to have Atticus by my side in the manor’s library, but my father would never allow a rogue into our home. But I had friends, friends who were like vaults and would guard my secrets with unwavering trust.

The manor halls were dimly lit, and I could hear the staff’s distant whispers as I searched for Eldan and Seren. I found Eldan first. He was in the kitchen, assisting the cook with storing freshly baked pastries. I leaned against the doorpost, watching him work. For every pastry he put in the pantry, he ate at least two.

“Can you lend me a hand with some research?” I asked from my vantage point. “Or are you currently on a mission to see if you can break the record for most pastries eaten?”

He turned, his mouth covered in chocolate, eyebrow raised. “What pastries? I’m not eating pastries, Aria. I have a crucial task helping Cook ensure these delicious delicacies are stored away so they can be served to your father and the elders later this afternoon. I’d never stoop so low as to steal them.” He flashed me a toothy grin.

I couldn’t help but laugh, and it eased some of the tension that I was carrying on my shoulders. “Come on, you big goof. We need to find Seren.”

As we walked, we talked about strategies to use in the next training session. I knew Seren was in the manor, as I’d asked both her and Eldan to remain close, but the manor was large, and she could be anywhere. We found her in my rooms, talking with Tati as they tackled a large bag of sewing, which was fine by me. I hated anything to do with laundry—washing it, mending it, ironing it. Seren was cut from a whole different cloth.

Ha, no pun intended.

Eldan spoke before I could. “Seren, Her Highness, Princess Aria, would like our presence in the library.”

I elbowed him in the ribs and was satisfied when he let out a pained groan.

Seren looked over at me, concerned. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” I said. “Eldan’s being dramatic because I stopped him from eating his weight in pastries.”

I flicked my eyes to Tati, silently conveying my apprehension about speaking in front of her, fearing she might divulge anything to my father. Seren gave a brief nod of understanding. Relief flooded me. Knowing I was not alone meant everything to me.

The three of us walked to the library, and I briefly explained the situation I found myself in.

“It’s been brought to my attention...” I began in a hushed tone. “That there is a prophecy. It contains information about two shifters, both with a birthmark shaped like a crescent moon, who are set to bring about great change.” I provided them with a brief overview of what Atticus had told me, giving them the essential details. “There is a wolf, a rogue named Atticus, who believes it is about us.” I gestured towards my collarbone. The birthmark served as a brand, a constant reminder of my new reality. “We both have the same birthmark, but I wanted to dig into the library to uncover concrete details about the prophecy. Currently, all I have is mere hearsay and speculation.”

“You believe him?” Eldan screeched. “A rogue? What the fuck, Aria. Fairytales. He’s got you believing fairytales. Sometimes I think you’re even more foolish than I give you credit for.”

“It could all just be stories, but there’s something to it, Eldan. Something beyond myth and fantasy. I owe it to myself to check out the library and see if there is any truth in it,” I explained with as much calm as I could muster.

“She’s right,” Seren said, and her unexpected support caught me off-guard. “Eldan, listen. Instead of impulsively running away with him, she’s doing the responsible thing by taking the time to investigate and gather more information. It won’t hurt to look in the library, will it?”

Eldan said nothing, but he walked into the library and began pulling books off the shelves. With a grateful look at Seren, I started doing the same.

Another storm raged outside, the thunder and lightning pounding through the stone walls of the library nestled beneath the grand meeting hall. The room was a sanctum of knowledge, with bookshelves reaching towards the ceiling. The scents of aged leather and ink reminded me of the countless hours I spent here as a child, immersed in lessons about the pack’s heritage and my responsibilities. My fingers brushed over endless books, searching for more information on the prophecy. Yet, my thoughts were ensnared by an allure far more perilous than any forbidden knowledge these tomes could offer.

Atticus. I chastised myself as the memory of our kiss pulsed through me, a wild force. It was absurd, dangerous, a transgression that defied reason. How could I entertain such an impetuous desire? The very notion of my father finding out about that indiscretion chilled me. If he learned of that stolen encounter, it would be his undoing.

“Ridiculous,” I muttered to myself, shaking my head to clear it of the intoxicating haze that threatened my will. With great effort, I wrenched my attention back to the task at hand.

The kiss with Atticus would remain nothing more than a singular lapse in my judgment. It had to. There was no place in my world, nor in my future, for a love so fraught with peril. Despite our undeniable magnetic connection, the rogue represented everything I stood against. Or at least what I was forced to stand against.

“Can’t say I envy your current situation,” Eldan said. I was glad to see a faint smile gracing his face, his eyes earnest after his earlier outburst.

“Your empathy is noted,” I said. “But you do understand why I must dig into these depths, don’t you?”

“Of course. But…” He paused, his expression stern. “You can’t let this obsession with the rogue cloud your judgment. He’s dangerous, for you and for the pack.”

I stiffened, bristling at the implication. “You think I don’t know that? My father would have my head if he even suspected I’d spoken to a rogue.”

“Then keep your distance,” Eldan said. “Aria, you’re meant for greater things. Don’t forget that.”

I sighed and turned away, burying my frustration in the search for elusive answers. Seren had grown unusually quiet, her attention fixed on the weathered book she was thumbing through.

“Find anything enlightening?” I asked.

She didn’t look up from the page. “Nothing that doesn’t sound like a bard’s embellished tale.”

“Perhaps because all of this is nothing more than fanciful nonsense.” The prophecy, the rogue—how could any of it be true? My birthmark, an anomalous crescent on my skin, was suddenly a brand of folly rather than destiny. “Atticus has one, too. A birthmark, I mean. Just like mine.”

Seren finally looked up, her expression unreadable. She leaned back against the shelves, arms crossed. “And yet here you are, scouring for answers about a prophecy that links you. Doesn’t sound like you believe it’s all that silly.”

“Maybe I’m just desperate to prove it wrong.”

“Or maybe,” Seren murmured, “you’re afraid it might be true.”

Her insight struck a chord. Each book I opened contained tales of love and fate, themes that were appearing in my life with increasing insistence, but I pushed them aside, trying to remain grounded in reality.

“Help me search, will you?” I asked. “If there’s truth to be found, it’s somewhere in this library. And if not… well, then I’ll have the confirmation I want to bring this chapter to an end for good.”

We kept searching deeper and deeper in the library. I tucked my hair behind my ear, focusing on Seren’s subdued figure as she leafed through a particularly moth-eaten folio.

“Atticus is like a raging fire,” I muttered, my tone dripping with sarcasm and a simmering frustration. “I’m drawn to his warmth, but get too close, and I’m at risk of being burned.”

Eldan shifted beside me, his impatience tangible. He cleared his throat, a subtle sign of his mounting dissatisfaction. Though he had become more supportive, he became more and more tense with each mention of Atticus and the prophecy. It was only a matter of time before his tightly coiled spring snapped.

“Your father wouldn’t approve,” he repeated. “Nor would anyone in the pack if they caught wind of this fascination. There’s already talk about how often the rogue’s been seen sniffing around the boundaries of Silver Claw territory.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you care so much about the gossip of the pack?” Part of me worried I was pushing him too far. Yet, deep down, even though doubts lingered, I held onto the belief he’d stand by me. He had to.

“Because I care about you.” The words burst from Eldan, his restraint finally giving way. “And I hate that you are putting yourself and the future of the pack in danger over a dangerous fascination with a rogue and some bullshit prophecy. Why can’t you just fuck him, get it out of your system, and settle with Larkin? It would be safer for everyone.”

With that, he turned on his heel, his footsteps echoing through the library. The door slammed shut behind him.

Seren glanced at me. “He’ll come around,” she reassured me. “He always does.”

“Maybe,” I said uncertainly. “I hope so.”

For the first time since we’d entered the library, I studied Seren properly. Dark shadows cast a pallor under her weary eyes, her lips pressed tightly together in a thin line. I reached out and placed a gentle hand on her arm, concerned. “Hey. What is it?”

Her gaze met mine, the usual sparkle in her eyes dimmed with worry. “I need to tell you something.” Nervously, she twisted her fingers in the hem of her shirt.

The shelves in the room creaked loudly, breaking the silence and adding to my growing impatience.

“Just spit it out, Seren. Whatever it is, just say it. I promise you’ll feel better once you get it out.”

She paused, then words spilled out of her in a jumbled stream. “The other night, after your party, I felt strange in my own skin. I can’t explain it, but I needed to get away from everyone, needed some time to think. It was a lovely night. Cold but not too cold, you know what I mean? I ended up beside the old battleground memorial.” She swallowed hard. “I… I saw a ghost.”

I leaned in closer, my annoyance giving way to a growing sense of alarm. “A ghost? What are you talking about?”

“You know, a spirit, a specter. He was pack, a member of Silver Claw from the time of the great battle.” Each of Seren’s words trembled. “He appeared right in front of me with a message: ‘ Beware. The pack is in danger .’”

Shock coursed through me as I took her hand. Encounters with the departed were tales told to scare pups, legends that were never meant to be lived. “Oh.”

She looked up at me, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears. A silent plea for understanding or perhaps forgiveness, for a gift she never asked for. “I’m scared. This kind of power, gift—whatever it is—it’s not allowed. It’s forbidden. If anyone finds out, I could be exiled from the pack.”

I took Seren’s hand in mine. “I won’t let that happen.” The underlying current of my commitment pulsed silently between us. “Your secret is safe with me.”

We returned to our research, the aged texts before us whispering secrets of a time long past. Our fingers delicately touched the leather and parchment as we searched through the knowledge they held, hoping to find answers.

“Listen,” I said, breaking the heavy silence that had hung too long, “Ilaric might be able to help. He’s been there for me before in certain… unusual situations. Apart from Ilaric, I haven’t told this to anyone, but you aren’t alone, Seren. I don’t see spirits, but I can manipulate water.”

Her reaction was immediate, a flash of shock in her face that mirrored my own trepidation. It was one thing to share the burden of her newfound ability, another entirely to reveal my own.

“I don’t want it getting out,” she said quickly. “You know how the pack is about stuff like this.”

Seren’s refusal to seek Ilaric’s counsel didn’t surprise me. The stubborn set of her shoulders, the way she crossed her arms around herself defensively, was so much like the way I’d carried myself before Ilaric helped me. But the seconds stretched out, each tick of the clock seeming more hesitant than the last until she relented, if only slightly.

“Maybe,” she said. “I just... why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

In a world where our kind were already deemed other, additional powers were labeled an aberration, a deviation to be feared. And here I was, future alpha of the Silver Claw pack, harboring the very thing that could unravel my birthright. The irony wasn’t lost on me, nor was the danger.

“Because I’ve known for years.” The secret and lies were suddenly oppressive. “And every day, the terror of it slipping out grips me tighter than any enemy’s claws ever could.”

She nodded once in understanding. We turned back to our task again. Every page turned was a step closer to unraveling the tangled web of fate.

I was on the verge of giving up and calling it a day when I turned the page. It felt alive, pulsating with every word I consumed, and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.

“Seren,” I called out softly, almost in disbelief. “Seren! I think I’ve found something.”

With careful attention, I read the words in front of me. Words of the past, of a future foretold.

“Under the eclipse moon, two souls shall arise.”

The magnitude of the prophecy started to really sink in. This wasn’t gossip or rumor. This was real, this was happening, and I appeared to be at the heart of it, along with Atticus.

“Under the eclipse moon.” It wasn’t just any night they spoke of, but one our kind held in high regard, one of legend and mystical energy, as the celestial event unfolded. And we, two souls touched by fate and hidden magic, couldn’t ignore the call.

“Could this be about...?” Seren, now reading over my shoulder, didn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t need to. We both knew.

“Maybe.” It was a confirmation and a question all at once, a tentative step into the unknown.

Under the eclipse moon, two souls shall arise.

With marks of the ancient crescent, a bond none can disguise.

One from the shadows, the other of alpha blood,

Together, they hold the power to calm the raging flood.

But beware, for their union shall bring forth either salvation or doom,

A balance of power, or an all-consuming gloom.

“An ancient crescent...” Her brow creased in concentration. “Your birthmark?”

I nodded, unable to form the words as the truth of it settled. The mark I bore was more than just a fluke of birth. It was a harbinger of a future written in the past, with the potential to unravel the threads of power.

“This rogue, Atticus,” Seren added. “He’s the phantom the elders speak about, isn’t he? The one from the shadows ?”

I could only nod again. Atticus, with his enchanting ice-blue eyes and enigmatic presence, truly exemplified the description. He had the remarkable talent of manipulating shadows, and his touch had awakened sensations in my body that defied logic.

“Then there’s you.” Her hand gently touched my arm as she read the line. “ The other of alpha blood .”

I was the daughter of the alpha, born to lead. Yet a prophecy tethered me to a rogue, a man outside the laws and traditions that had governed my entire life.

We shared a look that spoke volumes without uttering a single word. Our journey was only beginning, cloaked in mystery and fraught with danger. But amidst the fear that gripped the fading night, there was a glimmer of hope.

“What does ‘to calm the raging flood’ mean?” she asked, her voice filled with curiosity. “Do you think the pack’s really in danger?”

“Perhaps,” I said slowly, the cogs of my brain churning. “Maybe it has something to do with that spirit you encountered. Is it possible there’s some connection?”

“Could be.” Seren nodded slowly.

“Then that’s where we start,” I said, more to convince myself than her. “We go to the battleground. If there’s any place heavy with the spirits of our past, it’s there.”

“Today?”

“No time like the present, right?” I suggested, though my bravado couldn’t quite mask the tremor of trepidation.

“All right. Let’s do this,” she said.

Pushing away from the wall, I led the way out of the library. We walked toward the battleground, a site steeped in history and the blood of our ancestors.

The soil beneath my boots yielded with each step, damp and rich from the morning’s rainfall. At least the storm was gone. Seren walked beside me, her silhouette a ghostly presence in the pre-dawn gloom. The battlegrounds were just ahead, and the air carried the solemn whispers of those who had lost their lives.

“Are you sure about this?” Seren trembled slightly. “I mean, it could just be a wild goose chase.”

“If there’s any chance of reaching the spirit again, it’s here.”

We reached the clearing, the site of strife and valor that was now silent and still.

“Nothing’s happening,” Seren said after what felt like an eternity.

“Give it time,” I murmured.

“Maybe the spirit doesn’t want to be found,” Seren mused. “Maybe we should just?—”

“No. We can’t stop now. We need answers.”

We waited, the silence stretching on like the vastness of the forest. As time passed, the initial hope that brought us here diminished, giving way to the cold fingers of doubts that gripped us. But I refused to let it take hold.

“Something has to happen!” I shouted to the universe or anyone who would listen.

Suddenly, the air charged around us.

“Aria.” Seren gripped my arm. “He’s here.”

“Who’s here?” I turned to look, but didn’t see anything. Only Seren, with her otherworldly sight, could see the visitor who had drawn close to the veil separating worlds.

“The spirit.” Her gaze was fixed on a space just beyond the range of mortal vision. Her body tensed, a bowstring pulled taut with nervous energy.

“Ask him,” I said. “Ask about the prophecy.”

Seren nodded, swallowing hard before she spoke into the void. “Is what you told me linked to the prophecy? Are they entwined?”

There was an eerie stillness around us, as if time had frozen. All sounds and movements had ceased. Then Seren’s eyes widened. The spirit had answered.

“It’s all entwined,” she said. “He says there’s a betrayal in the pack, an incoming catastrophe. Something dark and twisted connected to the prophecy.”

A cold shiver danced down the line of my spine, a serpent of dread that wound tightly around me. Betrayal. The word was a poison seeping into me, breeding paranoia with every beat of my pulse. Our pack was my family, my blood. To think one amongst us harbored enough malice to betray...

“Fuck,” I cursed, the taste of anger sharp on my tongue. “We need to know more. We can’t let this fester.”

“Agreed,” Seren said determinedly.

“Ask where we can find the truth of the prophecy.”

Seren’s eyes were wide and shimmering with the connection to the unseen, and she blinked rapidly as she relayed my question to the spectral presence only she could perceive.

“Both parties must seek the seer,” she replied.

“Great. Just fucking great.” I looked skyward. “And how the hell are we supposed to do that?”

The spirit offered one last riddle before fading, which Seren repeated. “We will meet again here at the place where light and shadow dance as one.”

“Fantastic,” I scoffed. “More riddles.”

As the presence dissipated, a sharp stillness blanketed us, leaving a void where once there had been ethereal whispers. Static pricked my skin, raising the fine hairs on my arms.

“Someone’s watching us,” Seren whispered.

I turned slowly, glancing around our territory. My instincts screamed that we were not alone. That eyes lurked in the dark, coveting our secrets and our fears.

“Let them watch!” I called out. “They’ll find no coward here.”

Yet, beneath the bravado, I was uncertain, my mind whirling with whispered doubts and dark omens. It was a game of fate now, and every move we made had to be calculated because the stakes had never been higher.