9. Atticus

9

ATTICUS

I n the early evening gloom, Hale and I cautiously explored the outskirts of the forest, attuned to any whisper of threat. The Silver Claw pack lands were quiet, too quiet for comfort. The battleground memorial spread out before us, an unpleasant reminder of past conflicts.

“Something’s not right,” Hale whispered urgently.

Before I could respond, the faintest rustling alerted us to a presence. We crouched, ready for confrontation. To our shock, it was neither enemy nor prey. In the distance, Aria and another woman stood, their bodies taut with tension. The other woman was speaking to the air, to apparently an invisible entity of sorts, then relaying the conversation for Aria. The tingling sensation of electricity in the air made me wonder if there was indeed a spirit with them.

Suddenly, Aria’s friend exclaimed that someone was watching.

I turned to Hale. “I can’t lie to her. I’m going to let her know I’m here,” I said, blowing out a breath. “I’d appreciate it if you stayed, but I’ll understand if you don’t.”

Hale studied me briefly, then nodded before we left the safety of the hidden copse and made ourselves known.

“Atticus,” Aria greeted me hesitantly, her voice filled with caution.

The woman next to Aria whirled around. Her expression was haunted, as if she had caught sight of a ghost lurking among the gnarled trees.

“Did we interrupt something?” I asked, unable to ignore the charged atmosphere and the lingering traces of spiritual energy that clung around them. “We can leave if you need space.” I hoped Aria didn’t turn us away. She had a way of unraveling me, of making me feel vulnerable.

Aria turned towards her companion, and their silent communication was proof of a long friendship. Her friend finally gave a small nod.

“We’re fine,” Aria said, steady and strong like a true warrior queen. “Atticus, I’d like you to meet Seren, a trusted friend who has been invaluable in aiding my research about the prophecy.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said politely to the woman, but my attention was fixed on Aria. Standing so close to her was dangerous. I was struggling to keep my nerves from betraying me. I had to maintain distance, for both our sakes.

Aria’s talk of research did not surprise me. Somehow, I knew she wouldn’t take my word on the prophecy as gospel, that she’d search for her own information. Knowing she wouldn’t just believe or follow blindly but would actively seek knowledge and form her own opinions made me admire her even more.

Seren gave Hale and me a tense smile. I understood her wariness. We were rogues, the antithesis of the pack, but it still stung. I didn’t push my luck and offer her my hand to shake—I liked it at the end of my arm. She was scared, and a scared shifter was an unpredictable shifter.

“It’s good we’ve run into you,” Aria said, shattering the tense silence that had formed. “I came across a copy of the prophecy in the pack library. But that’s not all. Some unsettling information has been brought to my attention. There’s talk among the spirits.”

Seren, already on edge, tensed up even more. There was more going on here than a few old tomes in the pack library. But if Aria was aware of her friend’s discomfort, she ignored it.

“There are whispers of unrest that I can’t interpret. They say we,” Aria pointed her finger back and forth between the two of us, “that is, you and I, need to consult with a seer.”

I watched her closely, noting the rise and fall of her chest and how her jaw tightened ever so slightly. “Does that mean you believe in the prophecy now?” My question was laced with both skepticism and concern. I feared that she’d somehow talked herself out of the truth of the prophecy.

“I still have my doubts,” she admitted, a faint tremor in her voice.

Aria, the future alpha, a force of nature who could fight better than any male shifter, was grappling with the unknown. And it was my role to stand beside her, to guard her against the mounting danger that threatened to engulf us both.

“We’ll find your seer,” I said. I’d ask around to see what I could find out.

Hale cleared his throat. “There’s a seer who lives deep in the woods beyond the human village.”

I looked at him, and he quickly averted his gaze, refusing to meet my eyes.

“How do you come by this knowledge?” I asked, suspicion roiling in my gut.

Hale shrugged nonchalantly. “Rumors among the rogues. Whispers of visions and prophecies abound as the forest and its magic continue to diminish.”

Aria’s stance shifted beside me. “We need to find this seer,” she said. “Now.”

I frowned, my protective nature flaring up. The night held dangers that were not easily seen. “It’s dangerous to travel the woods when we don’t know how long we’ll be gone,” I said. “We should wait for first light. It’s safer.”

“Time isn’t on our side,” she snapped, the softness of her lips doing nothing to diminish the steel in her words. “Every delay costs us time that we can’t regain. This can’t wait until morning.”

A battle raged inside me as I grappled between the logical course of action and the overpowering need to keep her safe. I gazed into her resolute face and sighed. Arguing with Aria would be as fruitful as commanding the ocean to cease its tide. She was a force unto herself, and my role was not to tame her, but to stand as her shield against whatever perils might arise.

“Then we move with the night as our cloak,” I said, and her eyes widened slightly, clearly surprised at my sudden change of heart. Before she could say anything, I raised a hand. “We proceed with caution. And if danger rears its head, you stay close to me.”

Her nod was all the agreement I needed.

“I need to be back by tomorrow evening. I have dinner plans with my father.” She looked away and added quietly, “And Larkin.”

The name clung to me like a foul presence. A snarl twisted in my throat, struggling to break free. I quashed it down. Now was not the time. Larkin. The very thought of him twisted my insides. Betrayal was a poison, one I had tasted too often, and I had to reveal his treachery to her. But would it shatter her?

No, Aria was wrought from stronger metal than that. But still, discovering his dishonesty, his collusion with the Crimson Fang, would be a crushing blow. As we faced the challenges ahead, I realized the importance of locating the seer and resolving the immediate issues surrounding the prophecy and our role in it. The matter of Larkin and his betrayal would have to be addressed later.

“Understood,” I said, my voice rough and strained as if scraping against the jagged edges of my determination.

Hale stepped forward. “Why don’t we head back to the den and get something to eat and rest? We only have a few more minutes until the sun sets.”

He was watching Seren with such open hunger that it irked me. Hale’s romantic partners changed as often as my underwear. The idea of him hurting Seren for his own selfish desires filled me with dread, because it would also hurt Aria.

I kept a mask of indifference on my face to conceal my inner turmoil. Once we were back at the den, I’d talk to Hale about staying away from her.

“I’m coming, too,” Seren said.

The surprise on Aria’s face mirrored my own. Seren wanting to accompany us was as unexpected as stumbling upon a delicate blossom in a snow-covered field. With her serious and proper appearance, she was the least likely person to defy pack rules and end up in a rogue’s den.

“Then it’s settled,” I said, trying to project confidence through my smile. “Back to the den. We can plan our next move there.”

I led them through the dense foliage. Each time Hale’s focus shifted to Seren, a wave of tension rippled through my muscles. I needed his focus sharp, not dulled by the lure of carnal distractions.

Moving closer to him, I murmured softly, “Keep your head in the game and your cock in your pants, Hale.” It was barely loud enough for him to hear, but enough to draw a casual shrug from him.

“Always do,” he said with that infuriating nonchalance.

Pushing past brambles and low-hanging branches, we emerged into the clearing where the den lay, an unassuming mass of rough stone and mossy growth. Aria’s reaction when she noticed the hidden entrance was so slight that it would only be noticed by someone who paid as much attention to her as I did.

I brushed aside the curtain of moss and ivy that concealed the entrance. Bowing for dramatic effect, I said, “Welcome to our sanctuary.”

I led Seren and Aria into the communal area, where we were met with smirks and knowing glances from the other members of my chosen family.

“Look who Atticus dragged in,” Joren said, his face lit with amusement as he abandoned his chess game with Lyza.

“Mind your manners,” I growled. They were teasing, but respect for our guests was paramount. I offered Aria an apologetic smile, but she was more amused than offended. Having her here with my family, people I had chosen to love and protect, felt right.

“Please, find a seat,” I said. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m starving. We’ll have something to eat and drink, then get organized for our trip to the seer.”

I gestured toward the mismatched collection of chairs and cushions strewn about the space. As Aria and Seren settled, I busied myself pouring a ruby red wine, the clinking of glass a welcome distraction from the churning thoughts in my mind.

Aria nodded gratefully and reached for her glass. Her fingers brushed my thumb, sending a jolt of warmth through our connection. My pulse quickened, the simple touch igniting a fire that I struggled to contain.

“Joren, don’t you owe me a rematch?” Lyza asked with a challenge in her tone, pulling my attention back to the present.

“Sure, if you want to lose again.” Joren reset the chess pieces.

The den, with its worn furniture and scant décor, was heavy with unspoken tension as Aria sat among us. My chosen family, usually a rowdy bunch, watched her cautiously. They were well-aware that she was important to our future.

Silence fell once more, a contemplative shroud that even Hale didn’t dare disrupt. It was then that Joren, always one for testing boundaries, spoke.

“So, a future alpha amongst a bunch of rogues. How does it feel to slum it with us, Miss Winters?”

Aria remained composed, but I didn’t miss the way she clenched her fists. Even though she hadn’t asked for or needed my support, I felt compelled to defend her.

I let out a low, menacing growl. “Stop. Aria is here as an ally and equal, not for your amusement.”

My family cowered under my rebuke, the scent of respect and a hint of fear permeating the small room.

“I apologize.” Joren dipped his head slightly before flashing his throat. A reluctant show of submission.

“Accepted,” Aria said smoothly. Her eyes met mine briefly, and she nodded.

She took a drink, her throat working as she swallowed. Mia asked her a question, and I took advantage of Aria’s distraction to quietly admire the elegant curve of her neck and the silky cascade of her hair falling over her shoulder. I desperately wanted to reach over, brush away the lock that had fallen forward, and tuck it behind her ear.

I watched Joren decimate Lyza at chess. This dance we were doing, letting Aria into my world, into the core of my chosen family, was dangerous.

“Atticus?” I was so lost in thought that I barely heard Aria’s soft voice until she repeated my name.

“Sorry.” I cleared my throat, setting my glass down on a nearby table. I lowered my voice so only she could hear. “This isn’t the life I imagined for you, or for any of us.”

Aria took in the rough-hewn walls of the den and the motley crew that made up my pack. “I didn’t expect to be here, either, but there’s something raw and real about this place. It’s not polished or perfect, but it’s alive.”

“Alive, but not safe,” I said. “Bringing you here, into the fold, is risky. You’re the future alpha. Your pack needs you whole.”

“Maybe.” Her lips curved into a half-smile. “But I need this. To understand the full picture, to see the world beyond the borders of what I’ve grown up with.” She lowered her voice. “We need to find this seer, Atticus. We need to know the truth about this connection between us.”

The bond intertwined our destinies. “We will, I promise you, Aria. And when we do, and when we know more, we’ll face it head-on.”

Aria bumped her shoulder against mine in acknowledgment. As soon as our bodies touched, desire heated my blood.

“Let’s remember why we’re here,” I said, reminding us both that we had more important matters to attend to. As I pulled back slightly, my wolf screamed at me to close the distance between us once more. “We have a lot to plan, and little time to waste.”

“Right.” Aria nodded. The warmth from her skin lingered on mine. “We do what we must, for our packs, for our people.”

The ambient sounds of conversation and the rhythmic crackling of the fire intertwined, creating an atmosphere that deepened our contemplative state and reinforced our mission’s purpose. With such high stakes and even higher risks, something became crystal-clear to me. Aria needed to be part of my world, just as much as I needed to protect it and her.

The sound of Joren’s final move, a silent death knell as his knight swept in with the grace of a predator claiming its prey, jolted me out of my musings. Lyza’s queen fell to the checkered battlefield with a clatter that echoed around the den. Joren leaned back with a victorious smirk, and a collective exhale filled the space, releasing the tension that had built up.

“Your strategy is getting better,” he told Lyza.

She nodded, her lips pursed as she studied the chessboard, dissecting her defeat.

“Aria, you’re next,” Joren said, the playful lilt of his tone and mischievous twinkle in his eyes softening his challenge.

Aria hesitated, looking at me before she moved forward. Her reluctance vanished as she claimed the seat opposite Joren.

“Never played much chess.” She traced the lip of her glass, still half-full of the ruby wine, as she stared at the board with narrowed eyes.

“Then this will be a short game,” Joren boasted, but his smile was warm, devoid of any true arrogance.

“Or a surprising one,” Aria said. She moved her pawn forward, the simplest of beginnings to what I had a feeling would be anything but a simple game.

“Where’d you learn to play?” Joren asked as he mirrored her action on the board.

“From my father.” Aria’s bishop carved a diagonal path across the board. “He said it teaches patience and strategy, that both skills are needed for leadership.”

“Seems he taught you well,” Joren said, then laughed as Aria captured his knight. The tide of the game was turning, the undercurrents shifting, and I had a burgeoning respect for the depth of her hidden talents.

“Checkmate,” Aria announced. Joren’s king was cornered, his army dismantled. Disbelief and respect mingled in Joren’s expression as he leaned back once more, defeated but delighted.

He grinned at her. “Seems I underestimated you.”

From my vantage point, I caught Aria’s eye and the gleam of pride in it. “You’ll have to come and beat Joren more often,” I said playfully. The invitation, however, was sincere. “No one ever beats him.”

“Perhaps we all need a reminder,” she said softly, “that the expected can be upended.”

“Indeed,” I said. In the game of chess, as in life, every move mattered, and Aria was proving herself a player to be reckoned with.

Resting against the cool stone wall, I watched as Aria’s victory over Joren dissolved into the backdrop of wary glances and cautious conversations with my chosen family. The pride in her strategic triumph was still warm in my veins, but it did little to ease the new discomfort that unfurled like thorns among us.

Lyza observed Aria intently. She wasn’t known for her subtlety or patience, especially when it came to potential threats encroaching on our tight-knit circle.

“Never thought I’d see the day,” Lyza said, her tone edged with steel, “when we’d host future alphas into our home.” Challenge laced her words.

I clenched my jaw. “Lyza,” I said in a growl, “remember who stands with us.”

She met me head-on, unflinching. “Of course,” she said with a deliberate pause. “Just making conversation.”

The atmosphere thickened, but sudden laughter across the room drew my attention.

Seren’s musical giggles floated through the room as she draped her arm over Hale’s broad shoulders. He tried to fend off her advances with a sheepish grin, but his eyes betrayed him, lingering on the curve of her waist, the playful flick of her hair. I had warned him earlier to keep his focus, yet now they were teetering on the edge of distraction.

“Hale,” I said sharply. “Remember what we discussed.”

He straightened up, Seren sliding off him with a lopsided pout. Our homebrew had clearly gone straight to her head. “Yeah, I know. It’s just...” He trailed off and gave me a one-shouldered shrug.

“Keep it in your pants,” I said. The last thing we needed was more complications, especially with all that hung over us. “And maybe serve up some strong black coffee.”

He nodded.

Seren stood and swayed over to me. “Oh, come on,” she slurred. “Don’t be such a killjoy.”

“Tonight’s not about joy,” I said. “We’re here to plan. You know that.”

I didn’t know Seren, but the transformation from the serious young woman we encountered earlier at the battlegrounds to the person the alcohol was fueling was glaringly apparent. I had a sinking feeling that if I didn’t intervene, there would be profound regret come morning.

Her lips curled upward, and she attempted a dramatic wink that lost some of its potency when she closed both eyelids before twirling away, her floral scent wafting over me.

I glanced back at Aria, who had quietly trailed behind us, observing the entire exchange. In the dim light, her countenance was impossible to decipher, a mask of calm contemplation. But it was just that. A mask.

“Looks like our game has more players than we thought,” I said, acknowledging the chaos that always seemed to flirt with the edges of our lives.

“Every game does,” Aria said softly.

I pushed away from the wall, ready to steer the night back on course. We had much to discuss, and time, ever the fickle beast, was not on our side.

“We need to talk,” I said to Aria.

The hallway shrank around us as I led Aria away from the raucous laughter and the clinking of glasses, the darkness deepening with each step we took. When we reached my bedroom door, I opened it, revealing the stark simplicity of my bedroom, unadorned but for the essentials, a reflection of my life.

“Please.” I gestured to the bed with its rumpled covers. She perched on the edge without hesitation, and I breathed out in relief at her trust in me.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

I paced before her, a predator caged. “How are things with your pack?” The welfare of her pack was now inextricably tied to mine.

“Complicated.” She brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. The gesture was so achingly normal, yet it awakened a deep longing inside me. A desire tempered by the understanding of our intertwined fates.

“Everything about this is complicated.” I stopped pacing and faced her. Our eyes met, and the space between us crackled with the electric hum of attraction, a surging current that defied the dangers that stalked us both.

“Atticus,” she whispered, a call that beckoned me closer.

“I know.” The words barely left my mouth before I closed the distance between us. My hands hovered over hers, the heat of her skin radiating through the thin material of her clothes. To touch her would be to ignite the flame we were both desperately trying to douse.

“Every part of me wants you.” The raw honesty of my confession stripped away any pretense. “But there’s too much at stake. This prophecy...”

Her breath hitched, and I saw it then—the tremor of her lips, the dilated pupils, the rise and fall of her chest quickening. It was a dance we both knew well, the push and pull of yearning against reason.

“I’m drawn to you in ways I can’t even begin to understand.” She got up off the bed and paced the room. “But we’re standing on a precipice, and I can’t afford to fall.”

“Neither can I,” I said. “But here we are, teetering all the same.”

We stood inches from one another, and for the longest time, we simply existed in that paradox, two souls caught in fate. Then, with a discipline borne of necessity, I stepped back, putting space between us once more.

“We should focus on the task ahead,” I said, though every cell in my body screamed in protest. I sighed. “Look, Aria, before we go, there’s something I have to tell you, and although you may doubt me, I get no satisfaction from it. I saw something unsettling in Crimson Fang territory.” I never looked away from her, watching for any shift in demeanor. “Larkin was there. He was meeting with the Crimson Fang pack, and it didn’t look like his first visit.”

“I knew he was unreliable,” she said through gritted teeth. “But why the Crimson Fang? What could they possibly gain from him?”

I pondered her words. “I don’t know, but we can’t underestimate them. This is a dangerous game, and Larkin has made his move.” I moved closer, drawn to her vulnerability. “I understand your longing for simplicity, for the freedom to shape your own future without predetermined paths. But we both know, don’t we?” I reached out, gently tilting her chin so her gaze met mine once more. “We both know that some force, something inside, won’t allow us to turn away.”

“Yes.” Her breath mingled with mine. “We’re trapped on this route.”

Our connection seemed to transcend the physical space between us, as if our spirits themselves were reaching out, entwining in an ethereal dance.

“Wait,” I said. Recognizing that the timing was perfect, I seized the opportunity to present the gift I had been contemplating earlier. I reached into the inner pocket of my leather jacket, feeling the cool touch of metal and stone against my fingertips. I produced a slender bracelet, its chain adorned with delicate stones that shimmered like little drops of dew.

I held it out to her, the offering an extension of my own spirit. “This is for you.”

Aria’s eyes widened in awe, her lips parting in a silent question as she beheld the exquisite trinket. The jewels caught the glow of candlelight, casting prisms on her face. “What is it?”

“It’s enchanted,” I said. “The stones are more than mere adornments. They will turn black when falsehoods are spoken around you. It is a rare piece of magic for someone who values truth as you do.”

She hesitated, her hand hovering over the bracelet as if afraid to disturb the magic that imbued it. “Are you sure? Enchanted items aren’t easy to come by. This must be valuable.”

“I’m sure. It’s yours now. As for where it came from…” I paused, the lost memories at the boundary of my consciousness. “I believe it was my mother’s. But there are many gaps in my memory, pieces of my past that remain veiled in mystery.”

Aria accepted the bracelet, her fingers brushing against mine, sending a current of unspoken understanding through me. She fastened it around her wrist, the stones a constellation of promises between us.

“Your abilities,” she said tentatively. “When you entered my mind, how did you do that?”

The question pulled me back to when our thoughts had intertwined, an intimacy beyond the physical. “That ability, it’s not something I use lightly,” I said. “It’s not unlike the communications we form with pack members, but it’s a deeper connection. Normally, it’s like trying to push through a raging river, but with you, it was effortless. As natural as stepping into my own home.”

“Is there something wrong with me?” Her brow furrowed.

“Definitely not,” I said. “If anything, it speaks of a connection. A resonance between us that defies explanation.”

“Can you read minds, then?”

“Not exactly.” I searched for the right words, the simplest truth. “It’s more of a transfer of information directed toward those I choose.”

She nodded, absorbing the revelation. My eyes, sharper than even most shifters’, didn’t miss the quickening of Aria’s pulse, the delicate thrumming at the base of her throat. The mutual attraction between us was palpable. She wanted me as much as I craved her, and I wasn’t strong enough to resist skirting temptation.

“About that kiss at your window,” I said. “It took me by surprise.”

She looked down before meeting my gaze once more. “I wasn’t in my right mind,” she apologized with the faintest tremor. “I’m sorry.”

“Ah.” I sighed, pressing my back against the wall, hoping to cool down the flames she had stirred inside me. “So, kissing you now would be a bad idea, then?”

She hesitated, a small crease forming between her brows. “I’m just really confused right now,” she said in a whisper that only a shifter’s ears could catch. “Being pulled in so many directions. I’m technically spoken for, even though I hate the bastard. Especially after what you told me. I just don’t want to act rashly or selfishly. We need to keep a distance between us to avoid more complications. Isn’t that what you just reminded Seren and Hale of? We can’t stay focused if we’re all over each other.”

“Understandable,” I said, my tone steady, though my wolf howled to close what was left of the gap between us.

Her fingers danced across the buttons of my shirt, igniting a wave of desire. “The timing is all wrong, Atticus.” The words barely came out, as if she was holding herself back. Her lips were dangerously close to mine as she spoke, creating a deliciously intimate moment. “This is a really bad idea.”

Then her lips were on mine, re-igniting the blaze that threatened to consume us both. Her soft curves pressed against the hard lines of my body, and our breaths mingled as we explored the connection that grounded us.

With a will that was almost Herculean, I broke the kiss and pulled back to look into her face. Her eyes were wide, alive with a fiery passion that mirrored my own.

“I should have respected what you said,” I said.

“I’m the one who kissed you,” she countered, her tongue darting out to lick her lower lip.

I smiled as my lips brushed hers once more. The taste of her brought a comforting peace from the chaos, a healing balm for the soul. Even with fate conspiring to entwine us, the rebellion in her kiss promised a freedom neither of us had dared to dream.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” I said. “I’ll pack some supplies and get the route from Hale.” I hurriedly made up my messy bed, tucking in the sheets and smoothing out the blankets.

Before I shut the door, I watched her settle into my bed. A profound feeling of rightness filled me. Whatever happened tonight, whatever predictions the seer made, we’d face it together.