Aria
“Tell me you’re not falling for him.”
The words still hung in the air, thick and bitter like smoke.
Matthew stood inches from me, his hands braced on either side of my head, chest heaving. His eyes searched mine, hungry for something—truth, denial, maybe even a lie that could soothe the wildfire building behind his gaze.
But I couldn’t say it. I didn’t know what to say. So I said nothing. And that silence?
It ate him alive.
I watched as something in his eyes dimmed. He took a step back, slowly, like pulling himself out of a dream he didn’t want to wake from. His arms dropped to his sides, fingers twitching once before curling into fists.
“I see,” he muttered.
“Matthew—” I started, but he cut me off with a tight shake of his head.
“Don’t,” he said, voice cold. Too calm. “You’ve already said enough.”
And then he walked away. He didn’t look back.
The next day was gray. The sky hung low with clouds that looked ready to crack open. I stayed in the village longer than I intended, gathering scrolls and helping the younger she-wolves finish their herbal stacking. Anything to avoid the silence of the Pack House.
That’s when Elias found me.
He didn’t sneak up this time. He approached slowly, his boots crunching softly in the grass, his presence warm but heavy. He stood beside me for a while without speaking, watching the horizon.
Finally, he said it.
“I know I don’t have the right timing. I never did.”
I looked up at him, my chest already tight.
“But I’ve watched you walk through fire,” he continued softly. “I’ve seen how you carry yourself even when no one claps. I’ve seen how much of yourself you’ve given to a pack that still doesn’t know how to deserve you.”
“Elias…” My voice cracked.
He reached for my hand but didn’t hold it—just brushed his fingers against mine, like he knew even that was too much to ask for right now.
“I would give up my rank,” he said. “My position. My place here—everything—for a chance to be yours.”
Tears stung my eyes.
“Don’t say that,” I whispered.
“It’s the truth,” he said, his voice quiet and sure. “And I needed you to hear it. Even if you don’t choose me. Even if you never say a word back. I wanted you to know that someone sees you. All of you. And they want you.”
My lips trembled, but no words came.
Because for the first time in my life, I felt both everything and nothing at once. I was standing between two extremes—two kinds of love I didn’t understand how to hold. One was fire and fate, wild and all-consuming. The other was safety and freedom, built slowly, patiently.
And then there was me—somewhere in the middle. Trying to be enough for everyone but myself.
That night, I stood in front of my mirror, stripped down to bare skin. The room was silent. My breath is slow. My reflection is raw and unforgiving.
The dresses on the hooks behind me were beautiful. Silken, laced, embroidered with moons and wolves and delicate silver stitching. But they were made to shape me into what they thought a Luna should look like.
Not what I looked like. My curves didn’t hide. My scars didn’t fade.
There was softness where others wanted strength. There was strength where no one expected it.
I ran my fingers across the Luna mark on my neck, still faintly glowing. Then down across my stomach, where a long scratch still healed from my last patrol.
And I whispered it.
“If I’m always waiting to be wanted… I’ll never love myself.”
The words didn’t shake the walls. They didn’t burn away my pain. But they stayed. And that was enough.
The next morning, I didn’t put on a dress.
I chose a sleek battle suit—one I’d had made months ago but never dared to wear. It hugged my body like armor, fitted black leather and reinforced seams over my arms and thighs. A small silver moon was pinned above my heart.
I didn’t braid my hair. I didn’t soften my face with powder or paint.
I walked to the war room like I was walking into my own storm. And when I pushed the door open—
Every wolf inside stood.
No one spoke. Not even Matthew. I didn’t need them to clap. I didn’t need them to cheer.
All I needed… was to walk in like I finally belonged.