The storm raged on through the night, wrapping the cabin in its howling fury like a beast trying to claw its way inside. But within those wooden walls, something far more profound stirred—connection.
Aria drifted in and out of sleep, lulled by the sound of the wind and the warmth of the fire. At some point, she heard Luca moving again. She opened her eyes slowly and saw him pacing—silent, tense, as though the storm inside him rivaled the one outside.
"Can't sleep?" she asked softly.
He paused, startled by her voice. "Didn't mean to wake you."
"You didn't." She sat up, watching him. "Do you always pace like a caged wolf?"
The corner of his mouth twitched. "Maybe I am one."
It was a joke. But there was something in the way he said it—a half-truth laced with bitterness.
"Luca," she said carefully, "you've been kind to me. More than most would be to a stranger. Why?"
He looked at her then, eyes stormy with emotion. "You're not a stranger."
Her breath caught. "What do you mean?"
He hesitated, then walked toward the fireplace, crouching in front of the flames. "Your scent," he said. "I noticed it the moment you entered the woods. It's... familiar. Like a memory I forgot I ever had."
She stared at him, heart racing. "You've never met me before."
"No," he admitted. "But something about you pulls at me. Like my instincts know something I don't."
Aria wrapped the blanket tighter around herself, unsure of how to respond.
Was it possible?
Could their paths have been written long before either of them understood why?
He stood slowly and turned to face her. "I know it sounds crazy."
"No," she said quickly. "It doesn't. I've felt it too. Like… something in me recognized you."
Silence stretched between them again, no longer heavy with discomfort, but with the gravity of something ancient.
Luca moved toward the window and peered through the frost-lined glass. "Your ex—Damon. What pack did he lead?"
Aria's face darkened. "The Crimson Ridge."
Luca's head snapped toward her. "Crimson Ridge?"
"You know it?"
His jaw clenched. "Too well."
She stood, heart thudding. "What do you mean?"
"I wasn't always alone up here," he said, his voice a low growl. "I had a pack once. A brother. We were raised in the Blackpine clan—fierce, loyal, but brutal. My brother… he craved more than power. He wanted dominance over every pack in the region."
A cold chill ran through Aria. "Your brother—was he—"
"Damon," Luca confirmed, voice hard as iron. "He betrayed our family. Led a rebellion. When our parents refused to crown him Alpha, he murdered them and fled."
Aria covered her mouth, stunned. "And formed the Crimson Ridge Pack."
Luca nodded. "I tracked him for years. But he vanished. Hid in the southern mountains, built a following from rogues and castaways. I stayed behind to protect those who wouldn't follow him."
Her knees gave out slightly, and she sank onto the couch. "Then you're…"
"His brother."
The world spun for a moment.
Aria had run to escape Damon. And by some cruel twist of fate—or perhaps divine intervention—she'd landed in the arms of the man who shared his blood.
Yet everything about Luca was the opposite of Damon—gentle where Damon was cruel, steady where Damon was erratic.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" she whispered.
Luca sat down across from her, leaning forward. "Would you have stayed if I had?"
She swallowed, unable to answer.
"I'm not him, Aria," Luca said firmly. "We may share blood, but I've spent my life undoing the damage he caused. I don't expect you to trust me… but I swear to the moon above, I will never hurt you."
Tears burned at the corners of her eyes. Not because she feared him, but because for the first time in so long, she believed someone when they said they wouldn't.
"I don't know what this connection between us means," she admitted. "But I want to find out."
His hand reached across the space between them, and when her fingers touched his, a warmth bloomed through her that had nothing to do with the fire.
Fated mates?
Could it be?
The door suddenly rattled—violently.
They both froze.
Aria stood, heart racing. "What was that?"
Luca motioned for her to stay back and crept toward the door. He sniffed the air.
His eyes flashed gold.
"Rogues," he growled. "Three of them. Maybe more. They've tracked you."
Aria's blood ran cold. "How?"
"Damon must've sent them." His fangs extended slightly. "He doesn't let go easily."
Luca turned to her, the fire in his eyes no longer restrained.
"Stay inside," he ordered. "No matter what you hear."
"No—"
"Aria, I mean it," he barked. "Lock the door. If they get past me—run. Don't look back."
Then he was gone—out the door into the storm, into the dark.
Aria stood trembling, hand on the doorknob, as growls erupted outside. The sounds of teeth meeting flesh. Of wolves crashing through the snow-covered woods.
And for the first time in her life, she didn't want to run.
Because someone was out there fighting for her.
And maybe—just maybe—that someone wasn't a stranger after all