The forest was silent.
Not the kind of silence that calmed, but the kind that watched.
Aria stepped carefully between moss-covered stones and tangled roots, her breath visible in the cold morning air. The sanctuary was far behind her now, its protective walls and ever-burning torches traded for the unpredictable terror of the outside world. She had waited weeks before venturing this far, watched, listened, learned… but even now, her heart pounded like a war drum in her chest.
They still believed she was dead. That was her only advantage.
Draped in a cloak of illusion woven by one of the Rising Flame elders, Aria's face was a blur to those who passed her. She could walk through towns unnoticed, sit in taverns and hear whispers of her own fall like a myth shared around firelight. Some called her a traitor. None of them suspected the truth, that she was alive, that she was changing, and that she would return.
Her steps led her to the edge of Moonridge, a small outpost often used by scouts from the Blood Moon Pack. Familiar terrain, familiar danger. The scent of the earth, the trees, the wind,bit all pulled at old memories.
She remembered walking here once, hand-in-hand with Xavier, before he was Alpha. Before everything.
Now the wind carried new rumors.
"…they say Luna's body was never found."
"I heard the Alpha's have been visiting the Oracle more frequently."
"She haunts them. There's something moving in the woods at night but no one knows what it is".
Aria clenched her fists, forcing the heat in her veins to settle. Her control was better now, but the fire still surged when emotions flared. The Rising Flame within her was ancient, wild and it didn't take kindly to fear or hesitation.
She couldn't afford either.
Back at the sanctuary, the elders had warned her: the prophecy tied to her blood wasn't just a tale. It was a warning. Her power could turn the tide of war, or become the spark that would burn everything down including herself.
But Aria didn't want war. Not yet. She wanted answers. A rustle behind her.
Her body moved before her mind could catch up, spinning toward the sound, her hand raised, flames licking her palm.
But it was only a child, no, a teenager, frozen in place, wide-eyed.
Too late. He had seen her.
Her illusion cracked. For a second, just a second, he saw her face.
And then he ran. She hesitated.
Should she chase him? Burn the memory from his mind? Silence him?
No. That wasn't who she was.
Not yet. She turned and vanished into the trees.
By nightfall, she was back in the sanctuary, her cloak soaked and her mind racing. Her mentor, Rhazmor, stood waiting at the gates, arms crossed.
"You pushed too far," she said. "They've started to whisper louder now."
"I need them to," Aria replied. "I want them scared. I want them to ask questions."
She stepped closer. "And when will they get their answers? When will they remember who you are?"
She looked him in the eyes, flame dancing faintly beneath her irises.
"Then I'll remind them why they should have never cast me out."
Rhazmor sighed, the weight of centuries heavy in her eyes. "You're not ready for what's coming, Aria. Your bond with Xavier"
"Is broken."
"You think so," she said quietly, while looking her in the eyes. "But some things don't burn away, they twist, they return."
Aria said nothing.
She had heard the rumors too. Xavier was preparing for war. Not just with the other packs, but with something darker. Something buried. And at his side was Luna Morgana, whose power stemmed from ancient blood magic nearly as forbidden as Aria's own.
That night, sleep eluded her.
And in its place came a vision.
Fire, screams, a white wolf at the edge of a cliff, bleeding, alone.
And eyes, familiar and haunting, watching her from the shadows.
When she woke, her hand was glowing.
And the ember mark had spread.
Her eyes snapped open. The dream was gone, but its fire remained inside her, pulsing low beneath her skin. She sat up, breath uneven, one hand pressed to the glowing mark etched across her forearm. It didn't burn, but it felt alive, like it had been awakened by something older than memory.
Then, movement. Footsteps in the distance. Aria slipped to her feet and out of the sanctuary's stone walls, hugging the shadows. The air had shifted. Someone was out there. Not a guardian. Not a wolf. A new scent clung to the breeze, clean and strange.
She saw him before he saw her, or so she thought. A figure emerging from the trees, tall and worn, with dark hair and sun-browned skin. He paused near the broken archway and tilted his head, like he already knew she was watching. "Are you the flame?" he asked calmly.
Aria didn't answer. Didn't move. But his eyes met hers across the distance, and they weren't ordinary. They shimmered gold, deep and knowing, like the kind that didn't belong in this world. She rose, body tense. "Who are you?" she demanded.
He looked at her, steady and sure.
"I've been looking for you, Aria."
She froze.
She had never seen him before in her life.
And yet… he knew her name.