Episode 3
882 Words
A shiver traced Aria’s spine, though the wind had quieted. Ryder stood motionless beside the bodies, his silhouette outlined by the moon’s faint glow. Something about him didn’t fit the stories she’d heard. Rogues were meant to be broken—bitter, twisted, beyond reason. But he wasn’t snarling. He wasn’t unhinged.
He was watching her—like he expected her to collapse again. Like he knew what kind of storm she’d walked through.
“I don’t need your pity,” she said flatly.
“I’m not offering any.”
Aria wiped a smear of blood from her brow. The rogue nearest her had stopped breathing, his body already stiffening under the cold. She nudged the other with her boot—lifeless.
“More will come,” Ryder said. “Blood draws them.”
She gave a curt nod. “Then I should keep moving.”
He didn’t try to stop her. “You’ll last an hour. Maybe less.”
Her chin lifted. “I’ve lasted worse.”
His mouth twitched, not quite a smile. “That rejection must’ve cracked more than the bond.”
Aria bristled. “You know nothing about it.”
“Don’t I?”
He stepped over one of the fallen rogues and leaned closer, voice low.
“I know what it’s like to be exiled. To be stripped of your place. To be told your existence is a mistake.”
Their eyes met. She didn’t look away.
“You’re not the only one who’s been betrayed by blood,” he added.
Aria studied him again. He wasn’t trying to manipulate her. He wasn’t luring her with false promises. He was offering something far more dangerous.
Understanding.
She exhaled slowly. “Where’s your pack?”
“I don’t belong to one anymore.”
“Why?”
“I left before they could bury me.”
She swallowed the knot rising in her throat. “So you just wander the woods looking for lost souls?”
“Only the ones who still have something worth saving.”
The air between them shifted. Not warm. Not soft. But… steady.
She didn’t want comfort. But she needed ground that didn’t keep crumbling beneath her.
Ryder reached into his coat, pulled free a canteen, and tossed it to her. She caught it, lifted it to her lips, and drank deep. The water was sharp with minerals, but it cooled her throat and calmed her lungs.
“You headed somewhere?” he asked.
“I was. I’m not sure anymore.”
“Then you’ll come with me.”
She stiffened. “I don’t take orders.”
“Neither do I.”
“Then what’s this? An invitation?”
“Call it survival.”
She hesitated. Every instinct screamed to stay alone. Independence had always been her armor. But tonight had stripped away her pack, her status, and her fated mate in one brutal sweep. She didn’t even know who she was anymore.
Except… she wasn’t done. She wasn’t broken.
Not yet.
“Fine,” she said finally.
Ryder turned toward the trees. “Keep close. There are worse things than rogues out here.”
She followed.
The woods thickened as they moved. Branches arched overhead, forming a natural tunnel. The moon’s crimson glare filtered through in soft patterns. As they walked, silence wrapped around them—tense but not unfriendly.
He didn’t ask her to explain. She didn’t offer.
Hours passed before he finally stopped beside a jagged cliffside. A narrow entrance led into rock. Aria paused, unsure.
“It’s warded,” Ryder said. “Wolves can’t track us through here.”
He slipped inside without another word.
She followed him down a twisting path until it opened into a hollowed cavern, firelit and surprisingly warm. Old blankets and crates lined the walls. A cot had been assembled in the far corner. Whoever Ryder was, he had made this place livable.
He dropped his coat onto a hook and sank onto a bench beside the fire.
Aria stayed standing. “So what now?”
“You sleep. You heal.”
“That’s it?”
He met her stare. “What did you expect—vengeance training?”
Her lips parted, then closed again.
Because the truth was… she didn’t know.
She had imagined tonight her whole life. Meeting Kael. Being claimed. Belonging.
Now she was drifting. Unanchored. Her heart—her wolf—felt… unmade.
She turned from Ryder and sat near the far wall. Not too close. Not quite trusting. But not running, either.
The fire cracked.
“I don’t want to be her anymore,” she murmured.
“Who?”
“The girl who begged to be chosen.”
Ryder’s voice was steady. “Then don’t.”
She looked up.
“Start over,” he said. “Name your own worth. Make your own laws.”
Her breath hitched. “That’s not how the bond works.”
“No. But it’s how power does.”
Outside, the wind had picked up again. The trees whispered of storms to come.
Inside, Aria finally lay down—on unfamiliar ground, beside a stranger who had seen too much.
But for the first time since the Crimson Moon rose… she didn’t feel entirely alone.
Tomorrow, she would bury what Kael destroyed.
Tonight, she would breathe.
- Writer
