Aurelia’s POV
BEFORE AURELIA’S DEPARTURE
I can’t deny it–the brief confrontation with Selene has left me watching my back for days.
Today, I’m especially dreading moving around the pack. With Theron gone on a business trip, the guards have been on constant alert, patrolling every hour. It’s driving me insane. It feels like I’m back in the cellar again, trapped and suffocated.
And then, there’s Selene. Every time we cross paths, she glares at me with open contempt and never misses a chance to put me down.
I climb out of bed, bracing myself for the “amazing” day that lies ahead. Just thinking about it makes me roll my eyes in exasperation.
“A penny for your thoughts?” The voice catch me off guard, prompting me to glance around quickly in search of its source. But all I find is an empty room.
“Somehow, you look adorable when you’re puzzled.” The voice, thick with amusement, send a chill down my spine.
“W–What?”
The words freeze in my throat as a familiar but strangely altered sensation washes over me. I feel this presence before–but this time, something is off.
It carries a weight, a darkness, that unsettles me. Though I can’t see it, I sense it drawing near like a shadow creeping forward. “Honestly, I never thought he’d choose someone like you,” it taunts. A pressure clamps around my neck, gradually choking the air from my lungs. I try to move, but my limbs won’t respond–as if I am paralyzed.
Time slows to a crawl. The world around me seems to lose its color and fade. This is it. This is how it ends–for me, in this damn pack. I silently wish that Ma’am Nola won’t grieve too much.
I have already surrendered to the end. There isn’t much fight left in me. That is, until the door to my room bursts open, carried by a sudden gust of wind. My eyes fly open in shock. Everything from that point on is a blur.
In one instant, the door opens. I sense–perhaps see–another presence enter, though I can’t tell for sure. I am suffocating. And then, just like that, a familiar voice reaches my ears. I inhale his scent greedily, like someone starved for air, and it grounds me, soothes me.
“Would you-” he begins, hesitating as though unsure of his own words. He looks so much like he did the first time I saw him–in a dream. He draws in a deep breath. “Aureliza.” The way he says my name sends a deep tremor through me, one I feel at my core.
“Yes?” I answer, still catching my breath. I force down the large lump that forms in my throat.
“Would you come with me for a moment? There’s something I’d like to show you.” I nod silently, unsure of what to say. He touches the upper part of my arm so lightly that I would miss it if not for the warmth that lingers where his fingers graze me.
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The ground beneath us shifts, and my surroundings dissolve. A new scene materializes, unfamiliar and unlike anything I have seen before. Solid ground replaces the fading room.
“Get comfortable,” he says, his voice deeper, almost changed–but still unmistakably his.
“Where are we?” I ask, turning in place to take in as much of this strange new place as I can.
“Please, have a seat.”
He acts as if I haven’t spoken at all. I barely notice his dismissal, too absorbed in examining every corner of the space around me.
“Aureliza.”
He says my name again, and the way it rolls off his tongue sends sensations through me I dare not entertain, afraid I might act on impulse and do something reckless.
I move toward the nearest chair and sit down, deliberately avoiding getting lost in admiration of the stunning house.
“What do you know about fairies?” he asks, his voice hesitant, like he’s unsure how to put it into words.
I simply shrug–there’s not much to tell.
“We don’t have a good relationship with them. They’re not exactly fond of us,” I reply, offering the sim plest explanation I can.
He gives a small nod, realizing that’s the extent of my knowledge.
“I’m a fairy,” he tells me, slowly and carefully, as if explaining to a child. He watches my face for a r eaction but finds none.
“You already figured that out?” he asks, eyes widening.
“Well, obviously. You look way too perfect to be a wolf,” I reply, rolling my eyes with a hint of attitude. “Besides, you kind of said that in one of my dreams.”
He mumbles something about me already knowing, but I choose to ignore it.
“Well, that’s good to know.”
He clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “We’re mates.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Is this it? Is he about to reject me? And then there’s Theron- the thought of leaving him stirs a mix of sorrow and relief. I haven’t exactly done much to stay, and yet…
I glance at him again, a fresh wave of fear washing over me. “B–But…”
The words choke in my throat, panic rising fast.
“I’m a wolf,” I finally manage to blurt out, almost breathless. What would my pack say? The irony burns -I’ve spent so long wanting to walk away from them, and now I’m scared of what they’ll think.
“I know,” he says with a nod. Cross–species mating is rare–usually only done to prevent conflict. But f or a bond like ours to form naturally?
“I need to go home,” I say, motioning between us. “I have to think this through.”
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“I can’t let you leave just yet. You’ll have to stay here for a while.”
Panic builds again. Is this how it ends? Am I just going to be kept here against my will?
“Are you insane?”
I leap up from the chair like it’s caught fire. “You really believe that just because we’re ‘mates‘ I want anything to do with you? I don’t even know you, let alone care for you.”
“Believe me,” he says as he crosses one leg over the other, “the feeling is mutual.”
I won’t pretend that doesn’t hurt–because it definitely does.
“What? Am I suddenly not good enough for you anymore?” I snap, using anger to mask the vulnerable emotions swirling inside me.
For a brief second, tension flickers across his face, but he quickly replaces it with an even more
relaxed demeanor.
“You don’t get it,” he says, rising to his feet so we’re eye to eye. “I wasn’t created to have a mate.”
“I was made to be on my own,” he continues, stepping close enough that his scent–rosemary mixed with citrus–wraps around me like a noose.
“To be the strongest of them all,” he adds, voice dropping a few notes, deep and resonant like music that settles into your bones. “Then you appeared… the one flaw in my strength, the one thing I can’t escape.” His words are barely a whisper, but he’s so close I feel every syllable.
He gently tilts my chin upward, guiding my eyes from his chest to meet the storm–gray of his gaze.
“Thalric?” I breathe his name, and the sound of it seems to pull him back to himself. He releases me and steps away, putting distance between us.
Clearing his throat, he mutters, “Sorry. That got… a little out of hand.”
I give a slight nod, unsure of how to respond.
“You’ll need to stay here for a while,” he says after a moment. “Things have gotten dangerous. People are starting to notice how often I’m around you.” My eyes widen, panic flashing through me as thoughts of my mother surface.
“Just a few days,” he promises, “and then I’ll make sure you can return.”
“Okay,” I whisper as he turns to leave–but he pauses, steps back toward me, and presses a soft kiss against my lips.
Then he’s gone.
As if he was never here.
But he was–his presence lingers in the air, in my skin, and I ache for more.
I’m too stunned to move. First, because he kissed me out of nowhere. Second… because I didn’t want it to stop.
