Bite Me Softly

Chapter 17: Lunar Sight

The knock came just after sunset, soft but certain.

Aria sat frozen at the edge of her bed. Her notebook lay open beside her, its pages filled with half-sketched versions of the sigil she had seen in her dream. None of them felt right, though the shape still glowed in the back of her mind like a brand pressed to her memory.

Another knock. Louder this time.

She closed the notebook with trembling fingers and crossed the room. Her heart pounded harder with each step, not just from fear but something more tangled. Anger. Hurt. Hope she didn’t want to admit.

When she opened the door, Kade stood in the porch light, hood up, jaw clenched, like he had been standing there for longer than she realized. The golden hue of the fading sun caught in the strands of his hair, but his eyes stayed shadowed, unreadable.

“Aria,” he said. Just her name, like it was a question and an apology all at once.

She didn’t move.

“I know you don’t want to see me,” he said, voice low and raw. “But I had to come.”

She stepped aside without a word, the door creaking slightly as it opened wider. Kade hesitated only a second before stepping inside.

The air between them was thick with silence, heavy with things unspoken. Aria folded her arms tightly across her chest and leaned against the doorframe, watching him like she wasn’t sure if he was going to confess or run.

“You knew,” she said quietly. “You knew something was happening to me, and you didn’t have the decency to explain.”

“I wanted to,” Kade said. His voice cracked, like he was forcing it through a storm inside him. “But I didn’t know how. I didn’t want to make it worse. I didn’t want to scare you.”

“You didn’t want to scare me,” she repeated, bitter laughter curling at the edge of her voice. “Do you think not knowing what’s happening to me is less terrifying? I’m changing, Kade. And I thought I was going crazy. Alone.”

He took a step closer, but she didn’t move.

“I was scared too,” he said. “Of what it meant. Of what I did. Of what you are becoming. But mostly, I was scared of losing you.”

She looked away, blinking hard. The words hit somewhere deep, somewhere she hadn’t fortified.

“I had a dream,” she whispered. “Last night. My uncle spoke to me. It felt real. More real than anything in days. He said my future would be built on fire and blood… and that I shouldn’t run from it.”

Kade’s brow furrowed, tension rippling across his shoulders. “Fire and blood,” he echoed. “He knew.”

“He always knew,” she said. Her voice wavered. “He wrote me letters before he died. He told me to trust myself. To follow what’s waking up inside me.”

He stared at her for a moment, as if seeing her all over again. “And what do you feel when you look at me now?”

Aria swallowed. “Like I want to scream at you. And run into your arms. At the same time.”

A soft breath escaped his lips, and then he moved. Slowly, like he was approaching a wild thing. He reached out, his hand hovering near hers, waiting for permission.

She didn’t pull away.

“The bond,” he said, voice softer now, “it ties us together. But this thing between us… it started before the bite. Didn’t it?”

Aria’s heart stuttered. “I don’t know what started first. But I know I feel it. Even when I wish I didn’t.”

Kade’s hand found hers. The contact sent a quiet jolt through her, like touching something that remembered her before she knew herself.

“There’s more,” he said. “I didn’t just hide the truth because I was scared. Ryker warned me. Said your bloodline… the Sighted… they’re powerful. Dangerous. Some packs want them dead. Others want to use them.”

Her breath caught. “And what do you want?”

He took a step closer, just enough that she could feel the warmth of him, smell the faint smoke and pine clinging to his clothes.

“I want you free,” he said. “Free to choose what you become. Free from fear. And maybe… I want to be beside you while you figure it out.”

Her defenses cracked. A tear slid down her cheek, but she didn’t wipe it away. She let it fall, let him see it.

“Even if I become something dark? Something dangerous?” she asked.

“You won’t,” Kade said. He leaned his forehead against hers. “Not with a heart like yours.”

The bond between them pulsed again, not urgent this time, but steady. Real. Like the rhythm of something old and true.

She closed her eyes and let herself breathe in the space between them.

The morning light spilled through her bedroom window, soft and golden, and for the first time in days, Aria didn’t wake with a sense of dread heavy in her chest.

Her limbs still ached faintly, the way they always did lately, like her bones were stretching into something new while she slept. But her mind felt clearer. Grounded. The memory of Kade’s voice and his touch still lingered, anchoring her.

After everything, she had survived. She wasn’t sure what she was becoming, not yet. But now she knew she didn’t have to face it alone.

She threw on her favorite hoodie, tied her hair back, and for once, didn’t feel the urge to hide her face. It was her first morning back at school, and she had no idea what to expect. But she knew one thing for sure.

She wasn’t going to let fear decide who she was anymore.

The usual buzz of voices and slamming lockers greeted her like static. A few people stared, their glances bouncing off her like raindrops. She caught the tail end of a whispered conversation near her locker, someone saying her name like it was something to be pitied, or feared.

She ignored it.

“Hey.”

She turned to find Kade leaning casually against the wall, hands in his pockets, dark hoodie and messy hair making him look like he belonged in a movie rather than second-period history. But there was something softer in his expression today. Less guarded.

“You came,” he said, voice low but warm.

“Of course I did,” she said. “It’s just school. What’s the worst that could happen?”

He gave her a half-smile. “Don’t tempt the universe.”

She laughed quietly. “Fair point.”

He walked with her to class, and they didn’t say much more. But his presence beside her made the air feel easier to breathe.

Before they split for fourth period, he glanced over at her. “You doing anything after school?”

She blinked. “Besides sleeping for twelve hours?”

He chuckled. “I mean, do you want to grab food? Something normal. No secrets. No shifting. No drama. Just… burgers. Or fries. Or milkshakes. Or all three.”

She tilted her head. “You asking me out?”

“I’m asking you to eat greasy food and talk about dumb stuff with me for a while. That’s it. No pressure.”

Aria smiled, and it didn’t feel forced. “Sounds perfect.”

The rest of school passed in a blur.

The booth they chose near the window was cracked vinyl and the table slightly sticky, but it didn’t matter. The smell of grilled onions and milkshakes was weirdly comforting.

Kade picked at a basket of fries while Aria dipped hers in ketchup one by one with surgical precision.

“So,” he said between bites, “what’s your favorite color? And don’t say black. That’s cheating.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me, black is a classic.”

“It’s not a color, it’s an absence of light.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. It’s green. Like moss. Or old forests. Yours?”

He grinned. “Orange.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Like fire, or traffic cones.”

“Wow. Deep.”

He smirked. “Okay, your turn.”

“What’s your favorite animal?”

He raised a brow. “Besides wolf?”

“No loopholes.”

“Then hawk,” he said after a beat. “Fast, quiet, sees everything.”

Aria’s lips curved. “Fitting.”

“You?”

“Otter,” she said instantly. “They hold hands when they sleep.”

He stared at her like she’d just said something ancient and poetic. “That’s… kind of adorable.”

They kept going.

Favorite movie. Favorite smell. Song you secretly love but would never admit to. Least favorite subject. Dream vacation.

For a little while, it was just two teenagers talking, laughing, letting their walls slip.

And it felt good. Strange and good. Like she was finally remembering what it meant to live in her own skin, without fear constantly tightening around her ribs.

The sun had dipped lower by the time they left the diner, staining the sky in streaks of amber and bruised lavender. Aria lingered outside the door with Kade, her hands tucked in her hoodie pocket, cheeks still warm from laughing too much over his terrible impression of their chemistry teacher.

For once, nothing felt heavy.

They didn’t kiss. They didn’t need to.

He bumped her shoulder gently as he said goodbye and walked off toward his car, giving her one last crooked smile before slipping inside.

She stood there for a moment longer, the air cool against her skin, a quiet sense of something new beginning curling in her chest.

Then she turned and headed down the street toward home.

Across the street, behind the veil of a parked van, someone watched.

Not close enough to hear their words, but close enough to observe the way their bodies leaned toward each other. The way Kade lingered. The way Aria’s laughter had come easier now.

The figure stood utterly still, cloaked in a long, dark coat that moved only slightly in the breeze. Eyes sharp. Expression unreadable.

They traced a fingertip slowly along the windowpane of the van, and a faint shimmer pulsed beneath their skin. Just for a moment. A sigil, not unlike the one Aria had seen in her dream, flickered into view before disappearing again.

“So,” the watcher murmured to no one. “The girl remembers.”

They turned and vanished into the shadows before the last light left the sky.