The sun barely cleared the eastern ridge when Aria stepped onto the cracked asphalt leading out of the city. Cold air sliced through her coat, but she didn’t flinch. Zara walked beside her, duffel slung across her shoulder, jaw tense.
“Are you sure about this?” Zara asked, eyes scanning the horizon.
“No,” Aria said. “But it’s time.”
They had spent weeks hiding in cities and border towns, dodging patrols, witches, and whispers. Every day brought a new risk—Kael’s scouts, curious rogues, council dogs sniffing for scandal. But it wasn’t the fear that made Aria turn back toward SilverCrest.
It was the dream.
Or… the memory.
Her mother’s voice, soft and sure: “When the world breaks you, go home. There’s power in your roots.”
SilverCrest had been her childhood pack—before Kael, before the council, before everything broke.
She didn’t know if they’d welcome her.
But she had nowhere else to go.
Zara sighed as they neared the edge of the wildlands. “You know your old Alpha’s probably still pissed you left without a word.”
Aria smirked. “I left with a war declaration carved into his bedroom door.”
Zara blinked. “You didn’t.”
“Crude, but poetic.”
Zara chuckled, the tension easing slightly. “We might have to sneak in.”
“We will.”
The terrain changed as they entered old territory—pine-sweet air, rustling branches, and the distant hum of a river she’d once bathed in as a cub. Her heart ached with every step. How had she stayed away so long?
A hawk cried overhead, and Aria stopped.
The scent hit her like a storm—wet fur, smoke, and pine.
SilverCrest guards.
She dropped into a crouch, motioning Zara behind a mossy outcrop. Moments later, two wolves appeared at the treeline, noses lifted, eyes sharp.
Aria whispered, “Let me do the talking.”
Before Zara could object, Aria stepped out.
The two wolves growled low, hackles rising—until they caught her scent.
Then they froze.
One shifted—a tall, wiry man with streaks of gray at his temples.
“Aria Vale?” he rasped.
She nodded. “I’ve come home.”
His jaw clenched. “Alpha Thorn will want answers.”
“He’ll get them.”
They escorted her through the familiar forest paths, where sun broke through red-gold leaves. Aria fought the memories—laughing with cubs around a fire, her first shift in these woods, the way her father used to whistle on patrol.
So much of who she was had started here.
The pack compound hadn’t changed. Stone cabins encircled the meeting hall, smoke rising from every chimney. As they entered, heads turned. Whispers spread like wildfire.
She’s back.
Is that her?
I thought she ran off with Draven.
They stopped at the steps of the Alpha’s house.
The door opened before they could knock.
Alpha Thorn stood in the doorway, arms crossed, silver eyes cold. He was older now, hair gone fully white, but his presence still filled the frame like a storm cloud.
“I should throw you in the river,” he said.
Aria smiled faintly. “Might’ve earned that.”
He stared at her, gaze drifting to the curve of her belly.
Then he stepped aside. “Inside. Now.”
The room smelled like cedar and firewood. Aria sat across from Thorn while Zara lingered by the window, alert as ever.
Thorn’s voice was low. “You disappeared. Ignored every call. Then I hear rumors you bonded with Draven.”
“I didn’t just bond with him,” Aria said, chin high. “I was Luna. Until he chose someone else.”
Thorn’s expression didn’t flicker. “And now?”
She laid a hand on her stomach. “Now I’m carrying his heir. And I need your protection.”
Silence.
Zara shifted.
Finally, Thorn stood, pacing once before facing her again. “You’re asking a lot.”
“I know.”
“You bring politics. Trouble. Blood.”
“I also bring truth,” Aria said. “Kael broke the bond. The council turned a blind eye. I won’t let them erase me. Or this child.”
Thorn studied her for a long, heavy moment.
Then he nodded once. “You’ll stay in the west cabin. Under guard. Until I decide what to do.”
Aria exhaled. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” he growled. “You just lit a match at the feet of giants.”
That night, Aria stood alone outside the cabin, wrapped in an old wool shawl. The stars above SilverCrest were brighter than city skies—sharp, ancient, alive.
She breathed in the forest, the freedom.
But her peace didn’t last.
The tether in her chest pulsed.
Kael.
Not near, but not far.
She gripped the railing as the bond shimmered faintly—just a shadow of what it once was, but enough to know.
He knows I moved.
Somewhere, Kael Draven was searching harder now. She could feel the ripples of his rage, his urgency. He’d underestimated her once.
He wouldn’t do it again.
She looked down at her belly, then at the trees.
“Let him come,” she whispered.
“I’m not the girl he left behind.”
