Ronan carried Aria through the hallways with long, determined strides, ignoring every stare, whisper, and bow aimed their way. The fortress seemed to lean in around them, its stone corridors echoing with tension. It felt like Frostfall itself held its breath, waiting to see what Ronan would do next.
Aria lay against his chest, exhausted, her wrist still tingling from the burst of light that had shocked the entire council. Her eyelids drooped, but her mind spun too fast to rest. She could feel Ronan's heartbeat through his coat—steady, grounding, oddly comforting.
She wasn't sure when she had started noticing that.
Ronan pushed open the door to her chamber with his shoulder and stepped inside. Once the door closed behind them, the world fell quiet.
He gently lowered her onto the bed.
Aria leaned back against the pillows, but Ronan stayed close, hovering beside her like he might need to catch her again.
"How do you feel?" he asked, voice low, controlled.
"Tired," she whispered. "And… scared."
He nodded slowly, jaw tightening. "You handled yourself well."
"It didn't feel like it."
"No," he said, "because you're judging yourself as human. You aren't anymore."
Aria looked down at her wrist—the mark shimmered faintly beneath her skin, restless and alive. "What happens now? The council is furious."
"The council can wait," Ronan said.
"But they might force you to choose—"
"I already chose." His voice softened, but his eyes didn't waver. "I will protect you."
Aria's breath caught.
"You say that like it's simple," she whispered.
"For me," Ronan replied, "it is."
He rose abruptly and paced a few steps away, running a hand through his hair.
"The council thinks with fear," he muttered. "Fear of prophecy. Fear of power. Fear of losing the stability they've clung to for decades."
"And you?" Aria asked quietly.
He stopped. "I think with instinct."
"What does your instinct say?"
He turned, and their eyes met.
"That you are meant to survive this," he said. "And I'm meant to be the one who ensures it."
Her chest tightened.
Before she could respond, a sudden sharp pulse shot up her arm.
THROB—THROB.
Aria gasped and doubled over.
Ronan was beside her instantly. "Aria!"
"I—it's the bond," she managed. "It feels… stronger."
Ronan's expression darkened. "We need to ground your energy before it surges again."
"How?" she whispered.
"By centering it. Focus on my voice."
Aria tried—but the pulse grew sharper, faster.
"I can't—it's too much—"
Ronan took both her hands in his, holding them firmly but gently. "Then let me help."
Aria lifted her gaze to his. His eyes glowed softly—not the blinding Alpha blaze from battle, but a deep warmth she hadn't seen before.
"Aria," he murmured, "breathe with me."
She tried.
Her breaths were shaky. Fast.
"Slower," Ronan said. "Match mine."
He inhaled.
She inhaled.
He exhaled.
She followed.
The pulsing light in her wrist softened… then steadied.
"There," Ronan whispered. "Better."
Aria blinked up at him, breathing more evenly. "Why does this keep happening?"
"Because the second phase of awakening doesn't care about timing," he replied. "It reacts to emotion. Fear. Stress. And—"
He stopped.
Aria frowned. "And what?"
Ronan looked away, the tips of his ears slightly pink.
"Closeness," he muttered.
Aria froze.
"Oh."
"Yes," he said quietly.
"So… being near you makes it worse?"
"Sometimes," Ronan admitted. "But it can also make it better."
Her cheeks warmed. "That… seems unfair."
He exhaled sharply, a hint of frustration softening into something gentler.
"Aria," he said, sitting beside her, "the bond isn't just magic. It's instinct. Recognition. Pull. When the bond senses danger, it tries to complete. When it senses safety…" He swallowed. "It strengthens."
Aria's heart raced. "And right now, it feels both?"
Ronan nodded once. "Exactly."
Silence stretched between them—thick, charged, fragile.
Aria finally broke it. "Ronan… are you afraid it will force us together before we're ready?"
His expression shifted—surprise first, then something more vulnerable.
"Yes," he said. "Because if it seals now, it could kill you. And I…"
He stopped.
Aria leaned forward slightly. "You what?"
Ronan didn't look away this time.
"I would not survive that."
Her breath hitched.
Her mark pulsed again, but softly—warm instead of painful.
"Ronan…" she whispered.
But footsteps in the hall cut the moment short.
Ronan's entire body tensed. He rose immediately, placing himself between Aria and the door.
"Who is it?" he demanded.
A soft voice answered.
"It's Mae, Alpha."
Aria relaxed slightly. Mae—the young girl who'd brought her clothes. Ronan opened the door just enough to see her.
Mae looked nervous. "Alpha Ronan… there's a message."
"From who?" Ronan asked.
Mae swallowed. "A raven arrived from the northern border. It carried a warning."
Ronan stiffened. "A raven? That's not our messenger bird."
"No," Mae said. "It's marked with… Moonborn symbols."
Aria felt the temperature drop.
Ronan took the folded parchment from Mae and dismissed her quickly. He unfolded it in the dim light, eyes scanning the inked message.
His expression sharpened instantly.
"What is it?" Aria whispered.
Ronan closed the paper slowly.
"It's from him," Ronan said softly.
"The stranger?"
"Yes."
Aria's stomach twisted. "What does he want?"
Ronan handed her the parchment.
The writing was elegant but unsettlingly sharp:
"The Devourer has awakened.
It moves toward Frostfall.
The second phase accelerates for a reason.
Prepare the girl.
She will be tested before the moon turns."
Aria's breath caught. "Tested? By who?"
Ronan answered in a low voice. "By the Devourer."
Her hands trembled. "What does it want with me?"
"Your blood," he said quietly. "Your power. Your extinction."
She squeezed her eyes shut. "Why me?"
Ronan knelt in front of her again, taking her trembling hands.
"Because you threaten what it wants to destroy," he said. "Because you carry a power it fears."
Tears pricked her eyes.
"I didn't ask for this," she whispered.
Ronan's thumb brushed gently across the back of her hand—soft, protective. "I know."
"I didn't want to be Moonborn."
"I know."
"I didn't want people to fear me."
"Ronan's voice softened. "I don't fear you."
She looked up at him through blurred lashes. "Then what do you feel?"
Ronan inhaled slowly—steady, measured—before answering.
"Responsibility," he said. "Determination."
A pause.
"And something I'm not ready to name."
Aria's heart twisted painfully.
"Whatever it is," she whispered, "it feels… safe."
Ronan's eyes softened—then hardened again as he stood.
"We're out of time," he said. "The council will move soon. And the Devourer is coming."
Aria wiped her eyes. "What do we do?"
Ronan looked down at her, his expression fierce with resolve.
"We train you," he said. "We strengthen you. We help you control your visions, your power, your bond."
"Me?" she whispered. "Train? I don't even know what I am."
"You are Moonborn," Ronan said. "And Moonborn are never powerless."
Her wrist pulsed in answer—as though agreeing.
"When do we start?" Aria whispered.
Ronan's gaze burned with purpose.
"Now," he said. "Awakening waits for no one."
Aria nodded shakily.
But before Ronan could say more, a deep horn echoed through the fortress—lower than the intruder warning, colder than the storm outside.
Ronan froze.
"No," he breathed.
Aria's heart jumped. "What is that?"
Ronan turned to her with eyes glowing a dangerous blue.
"That," he whispered, "is the signal that something has breached Frostfall's outer border."
Aria grabbed his arm. "You mean—?"
"Yes," Ronan said.
"The Devourer has arrived."