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ARIA

Four months later…

S ometimes, I thought I could feel him again.

Not physically—like when I closed my eyes and imagined his hands on my body, his teeth grazing his mark at the base of my neck—but in the depths of my being. It came as a phantom stirring in my soul, a barely-traceable caress deep on the far side of our bond. Our bond that remained, even in death.

At first, that ever-present bond tortured me. Too often, I found myself diving down the invisible tether that connected our souls and violently searching for some semblance of life on the other end. I never found anything.

Now, the tattered remnants of our bond served as a reminder that, one day, I’d be with Malik again. A reminder that even death could not separate us, and my soul would find his in the afterlife .

But, as I curled on my side in the bed I once shared with him and rubbed my swollen belly, I swore I felt a gentle brush down the splintered cords of us.

I stiffened, every muscle in my body locking up as I waited for another touch. Another anything. There was only a small kick against my ribcage that soothed a fraction of the disappointment and grief that threatened to shatter me every day.

Smiling, I rubbed the spot where Malik’s pup liked to nudge me a few times every hour. She’d grown so much in the last few months. It wouldn’t be long now. Werewolves experienced shorter pregnancies than humans, mainly due to their accelerated growth rates and longer bones.

A knock sounded at the bedroom door, and I slowly pushed up into a seated position. My legs hung over the side of the bed as I took a deep breath and mustered the courage to rise another day.

For her—for Malik’s pup—I would.

My visitor knocked again, louder this time.

“I’m coming,” I growled through gritted teeth. I knew who waited on the other side.

Roman received a missive from the alpha of a small nomadic pack yesterday.

The pack, no more than thirty shifters strong and utterly incapable of defending themselves should Roman decide he wanted to destroy the competition, agreed to swear fealty to him.

They’d promised to arrive by nightfall to swear fealty to him.

When I opened the door, Roman’s scowling face greeted me.

“Are you well rested?” he bit out, clearly unamused by my decision to take a mid-afternoon nap prior to such a momentous occasion.

I didn’t bother answering. He didn’t care about whether I had a good nap, and we both knew it.

To Roman’s credit, he tried to remain civil in the months following his brother’s death. For the first few weeks, he tended to me with painstaking patience and gentleness. But, as the weeks bled into months and I refused to sufficiently fall into his arms, his kindness ran dry.

Granted, I didn’t make it easy for him. I performed the absolute bare minimum in my duties as his Luna. Just enough to maintain Roman’s protection for my pup.

We kept separate bedrooms, thank the Moon Goddess. He never attempted to act upon the desire I’d seen shimmering behind his eyes on more than one occasion, likely because he knew I’d try to kill him if he tried. He only forced me to interact with him for pack business.

I still didn’t fully believe the story he told about the night Malik died.

“I don’t understand why I have to come today,” I mumbled, wrapping my robe—an item I’d retrieved from the cottage that bore Malik’s scent—tight across my front.

Roman’s lips pressed in a flat line, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

“Because you are my Luna,” he explained, repeating the same words I’d heard countless times before. “And we need this new pack to view us as a united front.”

I barely contained my eye roll. “Fine. I’ll be down shortly.”

“See that you are, ” he warned, the words clipped and too-forced to be considered anything but a threat. “They’ll be arriving in?—”

I doubled over, some invisible force sweeping through me like a bolt of electricity. I gasped, but not from pain—there was nothing painful about the sensation. It was strange and overwhelming and vaguely familiar. And beautiful.

“Aria?” Roman demanded, brows lowered in concern. His hand clamped on my shoulder, and I nearly recoiled at the contact. “Are you alright? ”

The abrupt feeling vanished as quickly as it came, but not before I traced its source. It came from… my mate bond.

Malik? I shouted into our connection, but only my echo responded.

My pulse thundered in my temple, drowning out the world around me. I slowly stood upright, pressing my hand to the center of my belly and shaking my head.

“Sorry,” I breathed, half-convinced that I was losing my mind. “It’s the baby. She kicked me.”

Roman muttered a curse under his breath, eyeing my rounded stomach with a heavy dose of apprehension. He shook his head and turned away from my room. “Try not to do that when the pack arrives,” he called over his shoulder. “Ten minutes, Aria.”

“Thanks, asshole,” I whispered, stepping back inside my bedroom and shutting the door.

It was only when I was alone once more that I realized my fingers were trembling, my lungs heaving for breath. I’d felt it. Felt him. Like, for the briefest moment, the floodgates of our bond opened, and a tsunami swept over me with violent force.

All the grief, all the longing and hope and despair from the last few months, had poured over me. It’d nearly brought me to my knees. Then, it disappeared.

What in the hells was happening to me?

Ten minutes later, I carefully stepped out of the pack house, still not entirely trusting my legs to carry me after what just happened.

I wore a loose dress long enough to brush my ankles, hiding the extent of my pregnancy and the faint wobbling of my knees. One look in the mirror before exiting my room told me that the blood had long-since rushed from my cheeks. I looked like I’d seen a ghost. Or, rather, felt one.

Gio accompanied me outside. He never strayed far, ever-devoted to his role as my personal guardian.

Though I doubted he could do much if someone had their mind set on killing me and my unborn child, I enjoyed his company.

He, in addition to Emerson and my father, when he was allowed to visit, convinced me to leave the comfort of my bedroom day after day.

“It seems we’re late,” I hummed, eyeing the clearing where a large group of wolves and humans had gathered. Roman stood at the center, flanked by an innumerable number of our largest warriors.

An old man stood directly opposite him, appearing frail and wrinkled by comparison. His skin was dark, his hair white with age, though his eyes shone with quiet resilience. He stared at Roman like a piece of dirt stuck to the bottom of his shoe, and I decided I liked this old man.

With my chin tilted high and shoulders back, I approached the clearing. The old man’s eyes flickered to me when I took my spot by Roman’s side.

“Ah, here she is,” Roman announced, feigned pleasure coating the words. “Alpha Amir, this is my Luna, Aria.”

The whites of the old man’s eyes expanded in the slightest, and his brow lifted in surprise.

Did I not look like a Luna? Or, perhaps he could sense my pregnancy and the subsequent lack of Roman’s scent on my body? Regardless, I offered him a genuine smile and dipped my head in greeting. “Welcome, Alpha Amir. It’s a pleasure to?—”

He interrupted me with three croaked words. “You are pregnant?”

I froze, my hand instantly landing on the top of my bump. The pup within fluttered at my touch. Beside me, Roman shifted indiscernibly closer, and I was actually grateful for his presence .

I didn’t like the way Amir watched me, like my next words might seal his opinion of me forever. I held his gaze, never balking, and cocked my head.

“Yes,” I answered, not bothering to offer any further explanation.

Amir hummed, contemplative, then nodded toward Roman. “And the pup… It is this male’s?”

My mouth cracked open, but I couldn’t force the lie off my tongue.

Hadn’t my deal with Roman been for this exact purpose?

I agreed to be his Luna so he would claim Malik’s child as his own, protecting it from those who would rather see it dead.

I should’ve answered automatically. Should’ve sought refuge closer to Roman’s side, like any real Luna would do when a rival alpha stared at her like she was a villain.

“Of course it’s mine,” Roman seethed, answering for me.

He wrapped an arm around my back and pulled me into his side, placing a protective hand on my belly. Regret twisted in my chest, but I managed to keep myself from shifting away.

I dropped my gaze from Amir’s, but not before I saw a flash of surprise and disappointment in his dark brown eyes.

The old alpha took a small step backward, clasping his hands neatly together. He eyed me warily, and the werewolves at his back shifted. “Is that the truth, girl?”

He stared at me like he knew it wasn’t.

Fear skittered down my spine. Not for myself or the pack, but for the defenseless babe in my womb. For her, I’d swallow down this lie.

“Y-yes.”

And then I felt it.

Pain, unlike anything I’d ever felt before, shot through the center of my chest. It erupted from deep inside of me, like a knife had been plunged straight through my sternum and into my heart. It consumed me, enraged me, broke me.

“ Ah!” I fell to my knees, clutching at my heart like that might stop it from shattering into a million pieces.

No weapon protruded from my chest. My body remained intact.

This pain came from somewhere deep inside of me. From my soul. And I knew, even as the depths of heartbreak rippled through me like the aftershocks of an earthquake, this pain wasn’t my own.

A low growl rumbled through the clearing. Death incarnate. Violence personified.

No— not through the clearing. It permeated through my mind.

My eyes flared wide as they searched the crowd of werewolves in front of me. Slowly, they parted, and a monstrous wolf emerged from the forest behind them.

My soul recognized itself and rejoiced.

Malik.