Chapter 5
1278 Words
The hall held its breath.
“I will name my mate,” Aiden had said, and every wolf in Silvercrest froze on that single word.
Aria’s nails bit into her palms. The bond throbbed, hot and sure, as if it had no doubt at all. Her wolf pressed against her ribs, ready to howl his name for him if he somehow forgot it.
Aiden’s gaze swept the crowd.
It snagged on her first.
For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to the space between them. His eyes were raw and too bright, like a storm about to break. Everything in her leaned forward, silently begging.
Say it.
“Aria—”
Her name formed on his lips, soundless.
Then Alpha Efrain’s hand tightened on his son’s shoulder. Luna Beatrice’s fingers brushed his other arm, a light, warning touch. On the dais behind them, the elders watched like carved stone.
Aiden’s jaw locked. She saw the exact moment he pulled the leash on his wolf and dragged it back.
He turned his head.
His gaze slid past Aria to where Olivia stood just behind the Alpha’s chair, pale dress gleaming, chin lifted.
“My mate,” Aiden said, voice suddenly clear, too clear, “is Olivia Hale.”
For a second, Aria didn’t understand the words.
They reached her ears as sounds, not meaning. Noise in a room that had somehow gone utterly silent.
Then the meaning hit.
Something inside her cracked like ice breaking under too much weight.
No.
The hall exhaled all at once. There was a swell of murmurs, a few gasps, the rustle of fabric as wolves shifted to get a better view. Olivia’s eyes widened a fraction before she pasted on a gracious smile and stepped forward to stand beside him.
Aria couldn’t move.
Heat and cold fought in her veins. The bond in her chest went from a steady, comforting thrum to a high, thin whine, like something stretched to tearing.
Aiden kept talking.
“Olivia has trained for this role since we were pups,” he said, words sounding like they’d been practiced in front of a mirror. “Her family has stood with Silvercrest for generations. With her at my side, our pack will continue to prosper, and our alliances will only grow stronger.”
He didn’t look at Aria while he spoke. Not once.
Someone near her whispered, “I thought—”
“Shh,” another hissed. “Don’t be stupid. Of course it was always going to be Olivia.”
The elders nodded, approving. Alpha Efrain’s expression eased. Luna Beatrice’s smile smoothed into something almost real.
Aria’s vision blurred.
Her feet remembered how to move before her mind did. One step back. Then another. The press of bodies around her shifted to let her through without really seeing her. Faces turned toward the dais, not toward the girl in the green dress who suddenly couldn’t breathe.
“Are you all right?” someone murmured as she passed.
She didn’t know who. She didn’t answer.
The great doors loomed, too far and not far enough. Her heart hammered against her ribs, each beat a blow against the fraying bond.
Mate, her wolf whimpered, confused. Mate.
He said another name.
Aria shoved the doors open and stepped into the corridor, the cooler air slamming into her like a slap. The noise of the hall dulled behind her, muffled by stone. Her legs carried her blindly down the passage, past tapestries and torches she didn’t see.
Halfway to the side stairwell, the world tilted.
She braced a hand against the wall, sucking in air that tasted like dust and old stone and not at all like him. Pain lanced through her chest—sharp, bright, wrong. Her knees tried to fold; she forced them to lock.
“Aria!”
The voice was distant, warped. Footsteps pounded behind her.
She didn’t turn.
“Aria, wait—”
A hand closed on her arm. Her skin recoiled before her brain registered who it was. She jerked away like she’d been burned and spun around.
Aiden stood there in the corridor, breathless, jacket unbuttoned as if he’d ripped himself away from the dais the second he could.
Up close, the bond screamed.
His wolf clawed at the edges of his eyes, desperate, furious. Pain mirrored hers in the tight line of his mouth.
“Don’t,” she said.
One word, rough and low. It stopped him more effectively than a shove.
“Please,” he said, voice hoarse. “Just listen.”
“Like you listened to me?” Her laugh came out sharp and broken. “Or to your wolf? Or was that just for practice on the balcony?”
He flinched. “You think that wasn’t real?”
“I think,” she said, each syllable a shard of glass, “you stood in front of our whole pack and pretended I didn’t exist. You looked me in the eyes and then named someone else.”
“It’s not that simple—”
“It is,” she cut in. “You chose.”
His throat worked. “The Council—my parents—there’s more at stake than—”
“Than your mate?” she asked softly. “Than the bond?”
Silence answered her.
He didn’t say no.
The bond wailed inside her, high and frantic. Her wolf pressed against it, bewildered, hurt. She could feel his wolf too, raging against the bars Aiden had slammed down.
“I can’t throw away everything they’ve built,” he said finally, words coming fast, as if speed could make them hurt less. “The alliances, the safety—if I defy them now, it could tear the pack apart. They won’t follow an Alpha who puts his own wants above—”
“Above me,” Aria said.
His mouth snapped shut.
There it was. Clean. Simple.
“Aria—”
“Don’t.” She held up a hand. It shook, but she kept it steady enough. “Don’t say you choose me again. You had the only moment that mattered. You chose them.”
He stepped forward anyway, as if dragged by a force stronger than pride.
“This doesn’t change what we are,” he insisted. “The bond—”
“—is apparently very flexible,” she said, bitterness shocking even herself. “Strong enough to drag me onto a balcony, not strong enough to say my name out loud.”
Something like shame flickered over his face.
“I thought you were different,” she whispered. “I thought coming back from the Academy made you more than just their puppet.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No,” she agreed. “It’s not.”
Her chest burned. Breathing hurt. Standing here hurt. Looking at him hurt more than anything had ever hurt.
“Go back to your future, Aiden,” she said, the words scraping her throat on the way out. “Olivia’s waiting. The pack is watching. Don’t keep them from their perfect picture.”
His hand twitched at his side, fingers curling like he wanted to reach for her and break himself all at once.
“Aria—”
She turned before he could say anything else she’d never be able to forget and walked away.
Every step down that corridor felt like tearing threads. The bond didn’t snap—that would have been clean. It frayed and bled and screamed, leaving something raw and ragged in its place.
Behind her, he didn’t follow.
Of course he didn’t.
He’d already shown the whole world where his feet—and his loyalty—stood.
- Writer
