The next morning, the forest was quiet again, but it wasn't peaceful.
Something in the air had changed.
I felt it before I saw it, a low rumble, a pulse of energy that made the hairs on my arms rise. My wolf stirred uneasily, pacing inside me. The pack sensed it too; I could see it in the way they moved, alert, restless, waiting for orders.
Ronan stood at the edge of the clearing, scanning the trees. His presence, calm and fierce, held the wolves together like gravity itself.
"What's happening?" I asked, joining him.
He didn't answer immediately. His eyes stayed fixed on the dark line of the horizon. "There's smoke," he said at last. "From the borderlands. One of our patrols hasn't reported back."
"Could it be rogues?"
"Maybe," he said, voice tight. "Or worse, Bloodridge."
The name hit me like a blade. "Kael's pack?"
"Yes."
The air thickened between us. Memories of rejection and pain flickered in my chest like old scars reopening.
"I can help," I said quickly.
He turned to me. "You're still healing."
"I'm not broken," I shot back, my voice sharper than I intended. "And if they're coming, I won't hide again."
His expression softened just slightly. "You have nothing to prove to me."
"Maybe not to you," I said quietly. "But to myself."
We moved fast through the forest, a small group of Bloodmoon warriors leading the way. The scent of smoke grew stronger with every step.
When we reached the ridge, the sight below made my stomach twist, three patrol huts burning, and wolves scattered across the clearing. The Bloodridge banner fluttered in the wind, taunting.
Ronan's eyes went cold. "They crossed the border."
I followed as he charged into the clearing, his wolves flanking him. The battle erupted instantly, snarls, claws, the flash of silver eyes. My body moved before thought, instincts taking over. My wolf surged forward, faster and stronger than she'd ever been.
I fought beside Ronan, our movements oddly synchronized. Every strike he made, I countered; every enemy near me, he intercepted. It was as if some invisible rhythm connected us.
Then, Kael appeared.
He was just as I remembered: tall, sharp, beautiful in that cruel way that hides rot underneath. His gaze flicked from me to Ronan and back, disbelief clouding his face.
"Aria?" His voice was a snarl. "What are you doing here?"
I bared my teeth. "Surviving what you couldn't handle."
He lunged. I met him halfway.
The clash was brutal, years of betrayal condensed into seconds. His strength was undeniable, but something inside me had changed. Every blow I landed burned with purpose, with freedom.
When he stumbled, stunned by the force of my strike, I felt Ronan's presence behind me, steady, protective, waiting for my choice.
I looked Kael in the eye. "I accept your rejection," I said, voice clear, steady, final.
A silver light burst between us, the severed bond sealing at last. My wolf howled, triumphant.
Kael recoiled, clutching his chest. His link to me was gone.
Ronan stepped forward then, his hand brushing my arm briefly. "It's done," he said.
For the first time in days, the ache in my soul went quiet.
The battle ended soon after; the Bloodridge wolves retreated, dragging Kael with them. The Bloodmoon pack gathered the wounded, their loyalty to Ronan unwavering.
When the chaos faded, he turned to me. "You shouldn't have followed," he said, but his voice wasn't angry, it was low, almost careful.
"I had to," I said. "To end it."
He studied me for a long moment, eyes glowing faintly gold in the smoke-filled light. "You did more than that."
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
"The Moon chose again," he said quietly. "And this time, she didn't make a mistake."
My heart stilled. "Ronan"
He took a slow step closer, the world around us fading into silence. "Whatever this is between us, Aria… it's real. But it's also dangerous. Are you ready for what that means?"
I met his gaze. My body ached, my soul still raw, but I knew the answer. "I've already faced worse."
A faint smile touched his lips. "Then you're stronger than fate."
The smoke had thinned, leaving only the scent of iron and rain in the air. My body trembled, not from fear, but from everything that had just burned through me.
Ronan's hand brushed my arm. "You're bleeding again."
I looked down, barely noticing the gash across my shoulder until his fingers found it. "It's nothing," I muttered.
"You keep saying that," he said softly. "But you never let anyone see how much it hurts."
Before I could answer, he tore a strip from his cloak and knelt beside me. His movements were careful, almost reverent, as he cleaned the blood away. The fabric was rough, his touch was not. Each stroke sent tiny sparks through me, familiar and foreign all at once.
The night was too quiet. Even the forest seemed to be listening.
"You shouldn't be the one doing this," I said.
"And yet, here I am." His voice was low, roughened by something that wasn't exhaustion.
When he tied the bandage, his fingers lingered a heartbeat too long. Our eyes met, the space between us collapsing under the weight of everything unsaid.
My wolf stirred, rising to the surface, curious and aching. She remembered this pull, the kind that used to mean safety, belonging. But it wasn't Kael standing before me now. It was Ronan, steady and unflinching, his energy brushing against mine like a whisper the Moon herself had breathed into existence.
"Why me?" I asked before I could stop myself. "Why did the Moon choose me again?"
His gaze softened, the golden glow dimming into warmth. "Maybe she didn't choose again," he said. "Maybe she's giving you back what was stolen."
The words struck something deep inside me. My chest tightened, not from pain this time, but from the terrifying possibility of hope.
He reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair from my face. His fingers barely grazed my skin, yet my heart stumbled.
"You don't have to decide now," he murmured. "But know this, Aria, whatever's happening, you're not alone in it."
I searched his face, finding the quiet promise there, the steadiness I didn't know I'd been craving. My wolf quieted, curling around that warmth like it was something sacred.
"That's what scares me," I whispered.
He smiled then, small, tired, devastating. "Good. Fear means it's real."
And for the first time in forever, the ache inside me wasn't from loss. It was from something new trying to take root where everything had once been broken.
That night, the Bloodmoon camp was quiet again. I stood under the stars, the mark on my collarbone glowing brighter than ever.
The rejection had broken me. But the fire that rose from those ashes wasn't weakness, it was rebirth.
Somewhere deep within, my wolf whispered:
The Moon never forgets.
And maybe, just maybe, she'd chosen twice to make me whole.