Rain still whispered against the roof of the mountain cabin when Aria awoke the next morning, tangled in the thick woolen blanket Lucian had given her. For a moment, disoriented and warm, she forgot where she was. But then the faint scent of pine and cedar — and something darker, muskier — pulled her back into the present.
Her eyes darted to the corner of the room where Lucian had spent the night, stretched out on a low couch by the unlit fireplace. He wasn't there.
Aria sat up abruptly.
The room was quiet, save for the wind pressing against the windows. Her clothes were dry, folded neatly on a chair by the fire. Her phone, however, was still dead — no surprise. She had no idea what time it was or how long the storm would last. She didn't even know if Lucian was truly her ex's brother. That revelation had shocked her to her bones last night, but exhaustion had stolen the strength to ask more questions.
Until now.
She wrapped the blanket around herself and padded softly to the door, drawn by the scent in the air — that same intoxicating pull from last night. Her skin tingled with awareness she didn't understand.
Outside, mist clung to the forest like a veil. The storm had passed, but clouds still loomed over the peaks. Lucian stood by a tree a few feet from the cabin, shirtless, his back to her. His shoulders were broad and scarred, muscles taut as if every nerve was coiled tight. He didn't turn when she stepped onto the porch.
"Morning," Aria said softly.
Lucian's head tilted slightly, acknowledging her. "You sleep well?"
"I think so." She took a tentative step forward. "I have a few questions, though."
"I figured." He finally turned to face her, golden eyes locking with hers — not hazel, not brown, but a deep amber that shimmered like sunlight on whiskey. They were inhuman and beautiful and terrifying all at once.
"You said you're Killian's brother," she began. "But I never met you. Why?"
Lucian exhaled through his nose. "Because Killian didn't want you to know I existed."
"Why? That doesn't make any sense."
He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "Because I'm the black sheep of the family. The exile. The one who refused to follow the Alpha's orders."
Aria's stomach clenched. "Alpha? As in..."
"Werewolves," he said, voice low. "Yeah. That part wasn't a dream."
She stared at him. Laughed, half-nervous. "You're serious."
"I'm deadly serious, Aria. And I think you're starting to feel it too, aren't you?" He stepped even closer now, and the scent — that primal heat — hit her hard again. "Your blood's waking up. You're not just human."
"I—I'm not?"
Lucian's expression softened. "There's something in you. Dormant. Suppressed, maybe by your family, maybe by someone else. But when you crossed into these mountains, when you walked into my territory, it started to stir."
Aria's pulse raced. "My territory?"
"You crossed the boundary into Crescent Fang lands. My lands. And that... changed everything."
The wind rustled the trees around them, and suddenly Aria didn't feel like herself. Or maybe she felt like more of herself than ever before. Her senses were sharp, colors brighter, her heart pounding with purpose instead of panic.
"What does this mean?" she asked. "Why now?"
"I don't know yet," Lucian admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "But I do know one thing — it wasn't an accident that brought you here. The storm. The car. The forest. It was all part of something bigger."
Aria's breath caught in her throat. The sky above them began to break, a few shards of light piercing through the clouds. She turned away from him, overwhelmed.
"Why should I trust you?" she whispered.
Lucian's voice was firm. "Because I saved you. Because I didn't run when I saw what you could become. And because..." He hesitated. "Because I think we're connected. In a way that goes deeper than blood."
Her head whipped toward him. "What do you mean?"
His gaze didn't falter. "I mean I think you're my mate, Aria. And if I'm right... then your whole life is about to change."
Aria's knees nearly buckled.
Mate.
The word echoed in her bones like a drumbeat.
She stared at him — at the man she was supposed to hate, the brother of the one who broke her — and saw not danger, but fate. Not chaos, but a question she was dying to answer.
And in that moment, the forest didn't feel like a prison.
It felt like home.