When Aria woke, the fire had dimmed to glowing embers, and the cabin was cloaked in shadows. For a moment, she forgot where she was—until she heard the low, rhythmic breathing from across the room.
Luca.
She sat up slowly, wrapping the thick quilt tighter around her shoulders. The air had grown colder, and the wind still howled outside, brushing against the wooden cabin like a whispering beast.
Luca lay on the floor, one arm behind his head, the other resting over his chest. He looked peaceful, but something about the way his brows were drawn even in sleep told her otherwise. He was never fully at ease.
And she couldn't blame him. This place held secrets. So did he.
She stood, padded silently to the fireplace, and added a log. The fire sparked to life with a crackle. When she turned around, Luca was awake.
"You should rest," he murmured, voice rough from sleep.
"I could say the same about you."
He sat up slowly, the blanket sliding off his broad shoulders. He didn't answer right away. Instead, he rubbed his neck and looked toward the window. "Storm's not letting up. Not till morning."
Aria followed his gaze. Snow was still falling, thick and relentless. She sighed. "Looks like I'm staying longer than I planned."
"You're safe here," Luca said quietly.
It was the way he said it—firm, almost like a vow—that made her heart stutter.
Safe.
When was the last time she'd truly felt that?
She folded her arms. "Why are you really here, Luca?"
He glanced at her, jaw tightening. "Same reason you're running from something."
She blinked, caught off guard.
"I'm not—"
"You didn't just wander up this mountain for fresh air," he said, standing fully now. "You were running. I smelled it on you."
Aria froze.
"What?"
Luca's expression shifted, like he'd said too much. His eyes, still silver in the firelight, studied her face closely.
"I meant... I could tell," he corrected, softer. "Your eyes. Your body language. The panic. Something was chasing you—whether it was a person or a memory."
She looked away. "Both."
The silence stretched again, but this time, it was loaded with something new—understanding.
"I left my pack," she whispered. The words surprised even her. "I walked away from everything I knew."
Luca's posture stiffened. "You were part of a pack?"
"Yes. Not born into one, though. I was turned."
His nostrils flared just slightly. "That's rare. Most turned wolves don't survive the change."
"I almost didn't," she admitted. "But Damon—he made sure I pulled through. At first, I thought he saved me. But he only wanted a mate... someone loyal, obedient."
Luca said nothing, but the air grew heavy with restrained emotion.
"I found out he'd been using me," she continued, voice trembling. "He claimed I was his fated mate, but it was a lie. He was power-hungry. Manipulative. When I confronted him, he lost control. I barely escaped."
Luca's eyes darkened, voice low and full of barely restrained anger. "Did he hurt you?"
Aria looked down. "Not in the way you think. Not physically. But he broke something inside me."
A beat passed. Then Luca stepped closer, close enough for her to feel the heat radiating from his skin. "Then he's lucky you escaped. Because if he hadn't, I would've killed him myself."
Aria's breath caught. It wasn't just the words—it was the way he said them. Like they weren't empty threats. Like he meant them.
Like he could.
She looked up at him. "Why do you care?"
Luca held her gaze. "Because I know what it's like to be betrayed by your own blood."
There it was again—pain hidden beneath strength. Layers of wounds and memories too dark to share all at once.
Aria didn't press further. Instead, she turned back toward the fire, but not before whispering, "Thank you. For letting me stay."
He nodded, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "I'll keep the fire going. Try to rest."
She returned to the couch and curled beneath the blanket, but this time, her heart was louder than the storm. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he sat back down on the floor, gaze distant and haunted.
Luca wasn't just a stranger in the storm.
He was a mirror.
A survivor.
And though she didn't know how, she knew their stories were meant to collide.
What she didn't know yet—what neither of them knew—was that the mountain hadn't brought them together by accident.
Fate had teeth. And claws. And secrets buried in snow.