Aria's POV
The moon was full that night, hanging low and heavy in the sky, bathing the entire Nightshade territory in silver light.
I couldn't sleep.
The day had been long—more training with Ivan, more Luna duties to attend to.
My body ached, but my mind wouldn't quiet. Lira was still stirring faintly, and every time I reached for her, I felt the old fear rise up again.
I needed air.
I slipped out of my chambers, barefoot, wrapped in a thin shawl, and made my way to the small balcony that overlooked the grounds. The night was cool. I leaned against the railing and let the moonlight wash over me.
The sound of footsteps behind me made me turn.
Ivan stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets, a half-smile on his face.
"Couldn't sleep either?" he asked.
I shook my head. "Too much in here." I tapped my temple lightly.
He stepped out onto the balcony and joined me at the railing. "Yeah. Nights like this make everything feel louder, don't they?"
We stood in comfortable silence for a while, just watching the moon. Then Ivan spoke, voice low.
"You know, when I first joined the pack, I used to come out here every full moon. Just to remind myself I wasn't alone anymore."
I glanced at him. "You weren't born here?"
"No. I was a rogue for a while. Lost my family to a border skirmish when I was young. Wandered for years before Elmore—well, Raine's grandfather—found me half-dead on the edge of the territory. Took me in. Gave me a place. A purpose."
I looked out at the moonlit grounds. "Sounds familiar."
"Yeah," he said softly. "I think that's why I understand you. You've got that same look sometimes—like you're still waiting for someone to tell you you're allowed to stay."
My throat tightened. "I don't know if I'll ever stop waiting."
Ivan turned to face me fully. "You don't have to. Not with me."
The words hung between us. I felt heat rise in my cheeks, but I didn't look away.
He smiled. "You're doing good here, Aria. The pack sees it. Even if some people are too stubborn to say it out loud."
I laughed quietly. "You mean Raine?"
"I mean Raine," he confirmed, eyes twinkling. "But don't worry. He notices more than he lets on."
We fell quiet again, the only sound the faint rustle of leaves and the distant howl of a wolf somewhere in the forest.
After a while, Ivan spoke again, softer this time.
"Want to know a secret?"
I raised a brow. "Sure."
"On nights like this, when the moon's full and bright, I swear the curse feels… quieter. Raine's always a little less tense, like the weight on him lightens just a fraction. Maybe it's not as unbreakable as we think.
I looked at him, surprised. "You believe that?"
"I want to," he said simply. "And I think you do too."
I didn't answer right away. I just stared up at the moon, feeling Lira stir faintly in my chest—like she was listening.
Maybe she was.
Ivan nudged my shoulder lightly, playful. "Come on. Let's sit. I brought wine."
He produced a small flask from his pocket and two tin cups, grinning like a boy who'd gotten away with something.
I laughed—really laughed—for the first time in what felt like forever.
We sat on the balcony floor, backs against the wall, passing the flank between us. We talked about small things: favorite foods, childhood stories, the stupid pranks the younger wolves played on each other. We talked about dreams—mine of freedom, his of a pack that never had to fear the curse again.
We talked until the moon began to dip toward the horizon.
Ivan leaned back against the wall. He looked up at the stars for a long moment, then turned to me, his voice quieter than before.
"What do you miss most about Silvercrest?"
The question caught me off guard. I stared at the moon, letting the silence stretch between us.
I hadn't expected him to ask something so… personal.
I swallowed, the words coming slowly.
"Honestly?" I said softly. "I miss being close to where I lost them. My parents. Silvercrest was their pack. It was the only place I ever truly belonged. Even after they were gone, even after everything changed… it was still the last place I felt them. Every corner of that forest, every path I walked as a child—it all carried them."
My voice cracked just a little. I hadn't realized how much I'd buried that feeling until now.
Ivan didn't speak right away. He just listened, his gaze steady and gentle.
When I finally looked at him, he wasn't smiling. His expression was soft, understanding.
"I get that," he said quietly. "After I lost my family, I used to go back to the spot where it happened. Just to sit there. Like if I stayed long enough, maybe they'd feel me there too."
I nodded, throat tight. "It's stupid, isn't it? To miss a place that never really wanted me."
"It's not stupid," Ivan said firmly. "It's human. Or… wolf. Whatever we are. We hold on to the places that remember the people we loved."
I let out a shaky breath. "I thought coming here would erase that. That maybe I'd forget. But I haven't. I still carry them with me. And sometimes… I wonder if I'll ever stop looking back."
Ivan shifted closer, just enough that our shoulders brushed.
"You don't have to stop looking back," he said. "You just have to make room for something new. This pack—it's not perfect. But it's a place that can hold your memories and still give you a future."
Before I could respond, a low voice cut through the quiet night.
"What are you doing out here?"
I startled, nearly dropping the tin cup. Ivan was already on his feet, pulling me up with him.
Raine stood in the doorway to the balcony, arms crossed, silver eyes glinting in the dark. The air around him felt colder than it had a moment ago.
Ivan recovered quickly, offering a respectful nod. "Alpha. We couldn't sleep. Thought we'd sit and talk for a bit."
Raine's gaze flickered from Ivan to me and back again. He didn't move from the doorway.
"Since you're awake," he said, voice flat, "there's a patrol report that needs checking at the southern border. Take care of it tonight."
Ivan blinked, but only for a second. "Yes, Alpha."
He turned to me, giving a small, apologetic smile. "I'll see you tomorrow, Aria."
Then he was gone—slipping past Raine and disappearing down the corridor without another word.
The silence that followed was heavy.
Raine stepped fully onto the balcony, his presence filling the space like a storm cloud. His eyes moved over me slowly—from my bare feet, up the thin shawl draped over my nightdress, to my face.
It wasn't a warm look.
It wasn't cruel either.
I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze.
He held it for a long moment—long enough that my pulse began to race, long enough that I almost thought he might say something.
Then he turned without a word and walked away.
The balcony door clicked shut behind him.
I stood there, heart pounding, suddenly feeling colder than before.
Then I asked myself, what in goddess's name had just happened?