[POV: Cole]
I’d never been more nervous in my life.
Not during my warrior trials. Not during my first mission beyond the Midnight Crest borders. Not even the day I was chosen to stand beside Dayana as her future mate.
No.
This—this moment, sitting beside Aria beneath a crooked moonlit tree, her face shadowed and worried—this was what made my heart quake.
Because I was finally about to say everything I should’ve said years ago.
And I didn’t know if it was too late.
She hadn’t pulled away when I took her hand. But she hadn’t leaned in either. Her fingers were cold, but her skin didn’t flinch beneath mine.
Her gaze, when it met mine, held a thousand things—old pain, guarded affection, and something that looked like hope… or maybe just habit.
I took a breath. Held it. Then finally, I spoke.
“I was a coward.”
Her eyes flicked to me again. Still silent.
“I chose Dayana because it was easier. Because I thought I had no choice. Because Rau—my wolf—kept telling me power was what only mattered. That I needed to be strong. Ruthless. And Dayana... she was the right move on paper.”
I exhaled shakily, voice low. “But it was never about her. It never felt right. And you—”
I looked at her then. Really looked.
She was still so achingly familiar. But different now. Sharper, stronger. Like the quiet girl I once knew had been reforged in fire.
“You were always the one,” I said, voice barely above a whisper. “Even when I didn’t know how to admit it.”
Her lashes lowered slightly, and I noticed the subtle twitch in her jaw, the tension in her shoulders.
She was listening. I pushed forward.
“I broke something when I left you behind. When I stayed with her. I see that now. And I know saying sorry isn’t enough.” I swallowed hard. “But I need you to know—I loved you. I think a part of me always has.”
Her lips parted, just a little. But she didn’t speak.
I could feel the wall between us. Not unbreakable, but worn. Fragile. And full of sharp edges.
We sat in silence for a long moment, both of us surrounded by words we didn’t say.
Then—slowly—I reached out. Not forcefully. Not desperately. Just… gently.
My hand found hers again, and this time I lifted it between us. My fingers traced the back of hers, then stilled. I looked at her, asking for permission without saying a word.
She didn’t stop me. But she froze. Just for a heartbeat.
Like her body didn’t know how to move. Like something inside her had slammed on the brakes.
My heart sank. I almost pulled away.
Almost.
But then—she leaned forward. Barely. Just enough. And it was all I needed.
I kissed her. Soft. Slow. Careful.
It wasn’t the kiss of a warrior or a wolf.
It was the kiss of a boy who’d once watched her laugh beside a creek, who’d seen her dance with fireflies in her hair and mud on her boots.
It was a kiss years in the making. A kiss full of apologies, and longing, and the ache of everything we never got to be.
Her lips were warm, her breath caught between us. And for a moment—I let myself believe this could be the beginning of something new.
But then she pulled away. Not abruptly. Not coldly. With something unreadable in her eyes.
Like her soul was fighting itself.
She didn’t speak or run. Just looked at me, her eyes flickering like candlelight in the wind.
“Aria—” I began.
CRACK.
The sound shattered the moment like glass. We both jerked toward the trees.
Another noise—closer this time. A footstep. A rustle. The snap of something heavier moving through the brush.
Instinct took over.
She stood first. I followed, already scanning the shadows, my senses stretching outward.
“I got to go,” she said abruptly, before lowering her gaze and vanishing into the forest.
But the warmth of her still lingered on my lips. And the look in her eyes wouldn’t leave me.
It was the look of someone who wanted to choose me—
But couldn’t.