Aria's dreams were no longer her own. Shadows whispered to her in languages she didn't understand. Silver wolves with glowing eyes prowled her thoughts. And always—always—Kael was there, distant but watching.
She sat up with a gasp, her skin damp with sweat. The moonlight streamed through the cabin window, casting eerie patterns across the wooden floor. The bond between her and Kael was growing stronger—she could feel it thrumming in her bones like a silent rhythm only she could hear.
Downstairs, the pack house was beginning to stir. She pulled on a hoodie over her sleepwear and padded quietly down the stairs. Kael's scent lingered on the banister—cedarwood and frost—and her heart beat a little faster.
The kitchen was empty, save for Arya, who stood by the counter sipping coffee and scrolling through her phone. She glanced up, her eyes instantly scanning Aria's face.
"Another dream?" she asked softly.
Aria nodded, sitting opposite her. "They're getting worse. I think someone's trying to tell me something."
Arya's expression darkened. "Or warn you."
Before Aria could respond, the back door creaked open and Knox entered, hair tousled, eyes sharp.
"There's something you both need to see," he said, his voice low. "Now."
They followed him out into the misty morning woods, past the training grounds and into the denser part of the forest. The deeper they went, the colder the air became, until their breath turned white.
Finally, they reached a clearing Aria had never seen before. In the center, carved into the trunk of an ancient tree, was the mark.
Her mark.
The faded crescent-moon shape that had appeared on her skin weeks ago—now replicated in blackened scorch lines on the bark.
Aria's heart thudded. "What is this?"
"It wasn't here yesterday," Knox said grimly. "And it wasn't done by any of us."
Kael appeared beside them then, silent as the wind. His expression was unreadable as he studied the mark.
"This tree…" he murmured, placing his palm against the trunk. "It's sacred. Part of the old rituals from before the packs split."
"You think it's a message?" Arya asked.
Kael's eyes met Aria's, intense and guarded. "No. I think it's a warning."
Back at the pack house, things began to shift.
A group of scouts returned with news—rogue sightings near the southern border. Not just wanderers. Organized movement. Someone was testing the edges of Kael's territory.
"You need to prepare," Arya told Aria that night, tightening the straps on her training armor. "This isn't about Kael anymore. This is about you."
"Me?" Aria blinked. "Why?"
"Because the mark on that tree wasn't just yours. It was a claim."
Aria's throat went dry. "Someone's claiming me?"
Arya nodded. "And Kael isn't going to like it."
That evening, Kael summoned her to his quarters.
The door creaked shut behind her, and she found him standing by the window, shirtless, scars from old battles etched across his skin. His voice was low when he spoke.
"Do you trust me, Aria?"
The question made her pause. "I… I think so."
He turned to face her fully, stepping closer until the heat of his body pressed against hers. "Then tell me everything. Every dream. Every whisper. Every thought you've been hiding."
She hesitated. But something in his eyes—something pained and desperate—unlocked her.
So she told him.
About the dreams, the wolves, the ancient symbols. About how she sometimes felt as though someone else was inside her mind, guiding her toward something unknown.
Kael listened without interruption. And when she finished, he cupped her cheek gently, his thumb brushing away a tear she hadn't realized had fallen.
"You're not just any wolf, Aria," he said. "You're the reason the old magic is waking."
Her breath caught. "What does that mean?"
"It means your past isn't just forgotten. It's buried. And someone—or something—is trying to unearth it."
Late that night, after Kael left to deal with the scouts, Aria found herself drawn back to the marked tree.
This time, she wasn't alone.
A figure stepped from the shadows—tall, cloaked, with eyes like midnight. Aria stiffened, her instincts flaring.
"You've been dreaming of me," the stranger said.
"Who are you?" she whispered.
The figure stepped closer. "I am what was taken from you. And what he's trying to keep hidden."
Before she could ask more, the figure vanished, leaving only a single word carved into the soil at her feet:
Awaken.