Lights, camera… heartbreak.
Aurelia's POV
The Nightbloom estate never felt so quiet.
Not the good kind. The kind that sinks in your bones. The kind that makes even a heartbeat sound like a scream.
She sat curled on the chaise in her room, her bandaged leg propped on a pillow, her tea untouched on the tray beside her. The sunlight bled through the curtains in golden streaks, but everything felt… dim.
Mireya hadn't spoken much after the accident. Just a few forced smiles and hollow reassurances.
But Aurelia remembered the glint in her "friend's" eyes when she fell — how Mireya didn't scream or run to her side. How she stood frozen, not in shock, but in satisfaction.
Aurelia touched her bandaged leg gently. Her fingers trembled.
She wasn't sure what scared her more — the fall… or how close she came to not caring if she survived.
Because for a split second, as the wind howled past her ears and the world turned upside down, she felt… free.
But then he came.
That boy. That creature.
The one who held her with fire in his eyes and death on his scent.
He hadn't said a word to her after pulling her from the brink. Just those four haunting words before vanishing into the woods like smoke—
"We'll meet again, little wolf."
Her heart hadn't stopped echoing them since.
Lucien's POV (Ren)
He leaned against the wall outside Aurelia's room, arms folded, jaw tight.
Something was wrong. Different. Off.
Since she returned, she'd barely spoken. Her fire had dimmed. Her stubbornness quieted. Even her eyes — once wary and sharp — looked fogged over.
"She's not okay," he muttered.
Rowan snorted from the corner. "No sh*t, Sherlock."
Lucien shot him a look. Rowan just shrugged, pacing.
"I'm not used to this," Rowan muttered, raking a hand through his tousled red hair. "She growled at me, growled, three days ago. And now? She doesn't even glare."
Lucien's lips pressed into a flat line. "Something happened. More than just a fall."
"And that Mireya girl?" Rowan's eyes narrowed. "I don't trust her."
Lucien agreed silently.
Duke Darius' POV
From the shadows of the hall, he watched his sons fuss and pace like wolves denied a hunt.
His gaze flicked toward the girl's door.
Aurelia.
His daughter.
He never expected softness from himself. But the way she clung to life, the way she flinched at kindness, it… broke something old in him. Something rusted and cruel.
He'd kill for her.
Already had.
And now? Whoever put that hollowness in her eyes again — they'd better pray they disappear before he finds them.
??? POV
The boy watched the Nightbloom estate from the treetops, crouched like a shadow stitched into bark.
His hair was midnight.
His eyes glowed crimson in the dark.
He was still wet from the river — the scent of her still clung to him like moonlight.
His fingers flexed.
Rea.
That was what he'd call her. Not "princess," not "Nightbloom." Just Rea. Because she was his now. Whether she knew it or not.
His lips curled.
Next time, he wouldn't let her fall.
Next time, she'd run to him.
And the wolves?
They could try to stop him.
Let them try.
💔
TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 10…