The Ghost in the house
1099 Words
Aria’s POV
The sun came up without a glow. Just cold and grey, illuminating the mess we had made of the courtyard.
The scent of copper and ozone still clung to the air, even as the cleaning crews, silent, professional men in suits scrubbed the marble where a High Council member and a madman had bled out only hours before.
I stood on the grand portico, my arms wrapped tightly around myself. I was still dressed for a fight that never happened, the fabric stiff and smelling of smoke.
A sleek, midnight-black Rolls-Royce sat idling at the base of the steps, its engine growled faintly, vibrating in the soles of my boots.
The Grand Luna stood by the open door, her spine as straight as a steel rod. She didn't look like a woman who had just watched a murder; she looked like a CEO who had decided a merger was no longer profitable. She adjusted her silk scarf, her eyes cutting through the morning mist to find her sons.
"I’ve had enough of this drama," she said, her voice cutting through the quiet like a chilled blade. "This estate used to be a sanctuary of order. Now, it’s a circus. I’ll be staying at the penthouse in the city until the Council finishes their inquiry into Julian’s breach.”
She turned her gaze toward the porch, where Elena stood leaning heavily against a pillar. Elena looked fragile, her face pale and tear-streaked, her hand never leaving the slight swell of her stomach.
"Elena," the Grand Luna called out, her tone softening just a fraction, the only warmth she seemed capable of. "You have my blessing child. You are the only one in this house thinking of the future. I expect a weekly update from your doctors."
Then, she looked at Noah. He was standing a few feet away from me, his face a mask of exhaustion. He hadn't showered yet; there was a streak of Julian’s blood on his jaw that he hadn't noticed.
"If a single hair on her head is harmed, Noah," she warned, "or if my grandchild is mistreated because you’re too busy playing protector to a girl who brings nothing but ruin... I will return. You are the child's uncle, start acting like it.”
Noah didn't answer. He just gave a stiff, formal nod.
She turned her gaze to Cassian who looked as nonchalant as usual. “As for you Cassian, you have to take responsibility of your mate and your child. It's non negotiable.”
With a final, lingering look of disgust at me, the Grand Luna slid into the back of the car. The door closed with a heavy, expensive thud, and the Rolls-Royce pulled away, disappearing down the long, winding driveway.
A collective breath seemed to leave the estate.
Beside me, Cassian let out a jagged laugh, though there was no humor in it. He looked down at his hands, the hands that had ripped a heart out, and wiped them on his trousers. "Well," he muttered. "That was a hell of a family reunion."
He didn't wait for a response. He turned and walked back into the house, heading straight for the bar. He didn't even look at Elena as he passed her.
Elena lingered for a moment, her eyes darting between Noah and me. She looked like she wanted to say something but the coldness in Noah’s expression stopped her. She turned and retreated into the house, leaving us alone in the morning chill.
The silence between Noah and me was deafening. He took a step toward me, his hand reaching out as if to touch my shoulder, but I flinched. Just a fraction.
He stopped. The memory of the trial, the fact that he had been ready to fight me, to follow the law even if it meant my death, stood between us like a wall of glass. And then there was the kiss. That desperate moment that now felt like a fever dream.
"Aria," he started, his voice gravelly.
"Don't," I whispered. "Not now."
I couldn't look at him. I couldn't deal with the Alpha or the man who had kissed me. Not when my world was still shaking. I turned and walked into the house, heading straight for the medical wing.
When I pushed open the door to Maeve’s room, the sterile smell of antiseptic hit me. I expected to see her sleeping, the same way she had been for weeks.
Instead, I found her sitting up.
She looked skeletal, her skin dry and her eyes sunken, but she was awake. She was staring at the wall, her hands trembling on the white sheets. When the door clicked shut, her head snapped toward me.
For a second, I saw the old Maeve, the one who had hated me, the one who had craved for Julian’s attention. But then her eyes filled with a raw terror that broke my heart.
"Aria?" she croaked, her voice sounding like it had been dragged over broken glass.
"I’m here, Maeve," I said, rushing to the side of the bed. I reached for her hand, half-expecting her to pull away, but she gripped me back with surprising strength.
"He... he’s dead, isn't he?" she whispered. "I heard the screaming. I heard the fighting downstairs."
"He’s gone," I promised, sitting on the edge of the mattress. "Cassian killed him. You're safe."
Maeve let out a breath that turned into a sob. She leaned forward, burying her face in my shoulder. She smelled like medicine and old fear, but she was alive.
"I saw it all," she mumbled into my neck, her voice muffled. "When I was... under. I could hear him. Julian. He used to talk to me when he thought I couldn't hear. He thought it was funny."
She pulled back, her eyes wide and bloodshot, searching mine with an intensity that made me uneasy.
"Aria, you can't trust them," she whispered, her grip on my hand tightening until it hurt. "Not the brothers. Not the girl. Julian told me things... about why he really came here. About the pregnancy."
I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the morning air. "What do you mean, Maeve?"
Maeve leaned in closer, her voice a ghost of a secret. "Elena... she isn't what they think she is. And that thing inside her? It isn't a Vaelor."
- Writer
