The silver knife stopped an inch from Aria's heart.
Damon's hand was wrapped around Cassandra's wrist, his grip so tight she whimpered. The blade trembled between them, catching the sunlight like a deadly promise.
"Let go of me!" Cassandra snarled.
"Drop the knife first," Damon said, his voice deadly calm.
"She's a child killer! I'm protecting the pack!"
"You're framing an innocent girl." Damon twisted her wrist until the knife fell to the ground. "And you're under arrest."
The clearing erupted in chaos. Pack members were shouting, the tied-up children were still crying, and Kael was looking at Cassandra like he'd never seen her before.
"This is insane," Cassandra said, rubbing her wrist. "You're all making a terrible mistake. She led us here! The symbol was already carved!"
"Yeah," Damon said, pulling out his phone. "Carved exactly twelve hours ago, according to the timestamp on this photo I took yesterday when I followed you here."
Cassandra's face went white.
"You've been planning this for weeks, haven't you?" Damon continued. "Kidnapping the children, carving the symbol, making sure Aria would be blamed. The only thing you didn't count on was me documenting your activities."
"That proves nothing!"
"It proves you're a liar." Kael's voice was quiet, but it carried across the clearing like thunder. "Guards, arrest her."
As Cassandra was dragged away screaming about conspiracies and false accusations, Aria collapsed to her knees. Her whole body was shaking, and she couldn't seem to catch her breath.
"Hey," Damon said gently, kneeling beside her. "It's over. You're safe."
But Aria didn't feel safe. She felt like the ground had disappeared from under her feet. Everything she'd believed about herself, about what people thought of her, had just been turned upside down.
"Why?" she whispered. "Why did she hate me so much?"
"Because you're everything she wanted to be," Damon said. "The Alpha's mate. The pack's Luna. She's been in love with Kael for years."
Aria looked across the clearing at Kael, who was helping untie the children. He hadn't said a word to her since Cassandra's arrest. Hadn't even looked at her.
"He still thinks I'm guilty," she said.
"Give him time. This is a lot to process."
But as they walked back to the pack house, Aria could feel the weight of everyone's stares. Some looked apologetic, others still seemed suspicious. And Kael stayed as far away from her as possible.
That night, Aria finally fell asleep after hours of tossing and turning. But sleep brought no peace.
---
*The river was dark and cold. Eight-year-old Aria stood on the bank, holding her little sister's hand.*
*"Are you sure we should be here?" Lyra asked, her voice small and scared.*
*"Daddy said we could explore anywhere we wanted," Aria said, but she wasn't sure either. The water looked wrong somehow. Too black, too still.*
*"I want to go home."*
*"Don't be a baby. Look, there are pretty flowers over there."*
*They walked closer to the water's edge. That's when Aria saw them – silver flowers growing right out of the river, shining like tiny moons.*
*"Wow," Lyra breathed. "They're beautiful."*
*Aria reached for one, but the moment her fingers touched the petals, everything changed.*
*The river started to bubble and boil. The flowers began to glow brighter, so bright it hurt to look at them. And something started rising from the depths of the water.*
*Something with red eyes and a voice like breaking glass.*
*"Two little lambs," it said. "But I only need one."*
*"Aria!" Lyra screamed as tentacles of dark water wrapped around her legs. "Help me!"*
*But when Aria tried to grab her sister's hand, her own fingers started glowing with that same silver light. And everywhere she touched, Lyra's skin started to burn.*
*"Stop!" Lyra cried. "You're hurting me!"*
*"I'm trying to help!" But the more Aria tried, the brighter the light got, and the more Lyra screamed.*
*Then the water pulled Lyra under, and Aria was alone on the bank with her hands still glowing and the taste of her sister's fear in her mouth.*
*"Why couldn't you save her?" a voice said behind her.*
*Aria turned to see her father, Alpha Jarek, standing there with cold, empty eyes.*
*"I tried—"*
*"You have power beyond imagining, and you let your sister die."*
*"I didn't know how to control it!"*
*"Then what good are you?" Her father's voice was full of disgust. "What use is a daughter who can't protect the people she loves?"*
*The dream shifted, and suddenly Aria was older, standing in the pack house while her father drank himself into a stupor.*
*"She was perfect," he slurred, looking at a picture of Lyra. "Beautiful, kind, innocent. Everything you're not."*
*"Dad, please—"*
*"Don't call me that!" He threw the bottle at her, and it shattered against the wall. "You're not my daughter. My daughter died in that river with her sister."*
*"But I'm still here!"*
*"No," he said, his eyes as cold as winter. "The thing that came back from that water isn't my child. It's something else. Something that wears her face."*
---
Aria woke up screaming.
She was drenched in sweat, her heart pounding so hard she thought it might burst. The dream felt more real than reality, more true than anything that had happened since.
Footsteps pounded down the hallway, and her bedroom door burst open. Kael stood there, his golden eyes wide with concern.
"What happened? I heard you screaming from three floors down."
Aria curled up in a ball, still shaking. "It was just a dream."
"That wasn't just a dream. That was—" Kael stopped, like he'd been about to say something important.
"That was what?"
But instead of answering, Kael's expression closed off again. The concern in his eyes vanished, replaced by that familiar coldness.
"Nothing. Go back to sleep."
"Wait." Aria scrambled out of bed as he turned to leave. "Please don't go. I can't... I can't be alone right now."
For a moment, Kael hesitated. She could see the war happening behind his eyes, some part of him wanting to stay. Then he looked at her tear-stained face and stepped back.
"I can't," he said quietly. "I'm sorry, but I can't."
The door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving Aria alone in the dark with her memories and her guilt.
She pressed her hands to her face and cried until there were no tears left. Because the worst part of the dream wasn't the monster in the river or her father's cruel words.
The worst part was that she was starting to remember it wasn't a dream at all.
It was a memory.
And in that memory, she could see her eight-year-old hands glowing with dangerous silver light as her sister begged her to stop hurting her.
Maybe everyone had been right about her all along. Maybe she really was a monster.
But as she sat there drowning in self-hatred, something scraped against her window. Like claws on glass.
Aria looked up to see a face pressed against the window from outside. A face she recognized, even though it should have been impossible.
It was Lyra. Her dead sister.
And she was smiling.