Kael didn’t sleep the night SilverCrest was attacked.
He felt it—not as a message or rumor, but as a pull beneath his ribs. Something sharp. Familiar. Alive.
He stood alone in the watchtower of the Draven estate, moonlight bathing the war maps and raven scrolls beneath his fingertips. But none of it mattered now. No counsel. No border patrol. No hollow excuses.
She was in danger.
And his wolf knew it before he did.
He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose—searching.
It hit him like a lightning strike.
Her scent.
Faint, buried under layers of pine, moss, and distance. But unmistakable.
Golden-blonde warmth, wild rainstorms, and the salt-and-steel bite of battle.
Aria.
Not a memory.
Now.
His hands tightened against the railing. “She’s in SilverCrest.”
By dawn, he was on the move.
He rode without his usual guards, leaving his Beta scrambling behind with half a plan and a scroll full of protests. He didn’t care. Not this time.
Kael Draven, Alpha of the central territories, moved through the forest like a beast reborn.
Every mile closer, her scent grew stronger.
Every step forward made the tether throb in his chest—hot and raw.
He’d felt echoes of her for weeks. Dreams. Heartburn that wasn’t his. Nightmares that weren’t his. And now, the veil had lifted.
She was awake.
And so was the bond.
In SilverCrest, Aria sat on the cabin porch, her sword across her lap, watching the wind sweep leaves across the path. The battle had been won, but the silence that followed carried its own weight.
Zara stepped out with two mugs. “You didn’t sleep.”
“Didn’t try.”
Zara handed her tea. “What’s wrong?”
“I feel him.”
Zara stilled.
Aria stared out at the woods. “Kael. He’s coming.”
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t know how… but yes.”
Zara didn’t argue. “Then we plan for that, too.”
But Aria shook her head. “This isn’t war. Not yet.”
Zara crouched beside her. “Then what?”
Aria’s voice was soft. “A reckoning.”
By the time Kael reached the SilverCrest perimeter, the sentries were waiting.
Milo met him at the tree line, two guards flanking his position.
Kael dismounted slowly, eyes burning with purpose.
“I come unarmed,” he said.
Milo’s eyes flicked over him. “That doesn’t make you safe.”
Kael didn’t flinch. “Where is she?”
“That’s not your call.”
Kael stepped forward. “Tell Alpha Thorn I request an audience.”
“You should’ve requested permission before breaking her bond in front of the High Council.”
The words struck home. Kael’s jaw flexed.
“I didn’t come for a fight,” he said.
“Good,” Milo replied. “Because if you try to take her, you’ll get one.”
Back in the council house, Alpha Thorn read the message Kael had sent on raven-winged parchment.
Zara leaned against the hearth, arms crossed, unmoved.
“He’s playing a game,” she said. “Acting like this is diplomacy.”
“It might be,” Thorn said. “Or it might be guilt.”
Aria sat near the window, her face unreadable. “It doesn’t matter what he feels.”
Zara glanced at her. “Then why are you shaking?”
Aria stilled.
She hadn’t realized she was.
Because now that he was near… she could feel everything.
His regret. His hunger. His confusion.
The bond wasn’t a bond anymore, but the tether remained. And with every heartbeat, it tugged tighter.
Kael stood in the courtyard hours later, surrounded by wary SilverCrest warriors.
He wore simple leathers—no crest, no blade. Just his name. Just his presence.
And it was enough to draw attention from every corner of the compound.
Then the cabin door opened.
And Aria stepped out.
She didn’t wear armor or gowns.
Just a dark coat, her hair braided down her back, her belly visible beneath a soft wool tunic.
Kael’s breath caught.
His wolf surged forward in his chest, aching to reach her.
But she didn’t move.
Didn’t smile.
Didn’t flinch.
She walked toward him like she owned the earth beneath her feet.
And he felt smaller with every step she took.
They met at the center of the stone courtyard, beneath the old SilverCrest tree.
The same place she had stood after the rogue attack.
The same place she had risen.
He lowered his head slightly in greeting.
“Aria.”
She met his eyes without hesitation. “Kael.”
He swallowed. “You’re alive.”
“And you’re late.”
His mouth tightened. “I came as soon as I—”
“No,” she cut in. “You came when your guilt outweighed your pride.”
A pause. The silence around them deepened.
He looked at her belly. “Is it mine?”
She didn’t blink. “You already know the answer.”
His voice broke. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You severed the bond. In front of the council. You chose another woman while I bled.”
Kael looked away.
“I didn’t know how,” he said, quietly. “How to be both Alpha and yours.”
“You were never mine,” she replied. “Not really.”
Another long pause.
Then he whispered, “Can I see the baby? When it’s born?”
She stepped back. “If you want to see this child, you do it by standing behind me. Not above me. Not with threats. Not with pity.”
“I’m not here to threaten you.”
“Good,” she said. “Because I’m not yours to threaten.”
He left without trying to touch her.
Without begging.
Without apologies that would’ve meant too little, too late.
But as he rode away from SilverCrest, Kael knew this wasn’t the end.
It was the first page of something far more dangerous.
Because Aria wasn’t his Luna anymore.
She was something else entirely.
And she carried not just his child…
But his undoing.
