James' POV
I watched the two of them, Ares and Aria, with growing unease. There was something shifting between them, something I couldn't quite put my finger on. And I wasn't sure it was a good thing. I had always known that Ares was more than just an Alpha he was a protector, a leader, but even he wasn't immune to the effects of his emotions. And Aria… I had seen her rise from the depths of despair. I had seen her become more than just a broken servant. But now, I was starting to wonder if she was heading into something she couldn't control. "She's changing," I said to Ares one evening, after a long day of training. Ares looked up from his papers, his expression unreadable. "What do you mean?" "She's stronger. But she's also more… distant. More closed off. He didn't answer immediately, but I saw the flicker of something in his eyes guilt, maybe. Regret. Whatever it was, it was enough to make me speak again. "I'm just saying, Ares, that you need to be careful. You're not the only one who feels the shift in her. She's becoming someone else, and I don't know if it's a good thing." Ares didn't respond, but I could see the weight of my words settle on his shoulders. "Don't forget who you are, Aria," I whispered under my breath, hoping she could hear me.
I didn't sleep that night. Couldn't.
The feeling in my gut was familiar the same hollow dread I had felt the night Clara first betrayed us. It was like the air itself was pulsing with tension, warning of something that hadn't yet arrived. Something close.
I rose before the sun, heading straight for the lower tunnels. I'd ordered the warriors to seal half of them the night before, but I needed to be sure. If Clara was using these underground paths to move, she knew them better than we ever did.
I carried only a dagger and a small lantern. The tunnels were damp, the walls carved out centuries ago back when the packs feared human hunters and had to build secret escape routes. Most warriors thought they were legend.
But I knew better. I ducked under a low arch and stopped at a wall of ancient stone. There fresh markings. Blood. Not enough to indicate a fatal wound, but just enough to confirm movement. I crouched, running my fingers through the red streak.
Not wolf. Human. That ruled out random rogues. Clara was hurting… or she was using blood to throw us off. Either way, she had been here less than twenty four hours ago. And she wasn't alone. I stood, senses prickling. A breath too loud. A whisper of motion behind me. I turned too late. A hard strike to the back of my head sent me crashing to the ground, stars bursting across my vision. I rolled, instincts kicking in, and barely dodged a second blow. My attacker lunged from the shadows not Clara. A male. Young. Fast. And from the look in his wild eyes, completely feral.
"You shouldn't have followed," he hissed, voice cracked and unfamiliar. "I don't even know who you are," I grunted, dodging a swipe and jabbing my dagger into his side. He screamed, but it wasn't pain. It was fury. As if I'd just confirmed everything he feared. "She will rise," he spat. "You can't stop it. None of you can." Then he turned and fled, disappearing into the shadows as fast as he'd come. I staggered to my feet, blood roaring in my ears. She will rise?
Who was she?
Clara?
Or…
My heart sank.
Aria.
I returned to the surface just as the sky turned grey. My head pounded. My ribs ached. But my mind… it was reeling. Something was wrong. Deeply wrong. Clara wasn't just hiding. She was building something. Gathering people. Maybe even followers. And worse… she wasn't doing it for power alone. She was doing it for Aria. Not to help her. Not to kill her. But to use her. I stormed into the war chamber where Ares was reviewing patrol reports. He looked up, brow furrowed. "You look like hell." "There's a reason," I snapped, throwing the bloodied cloth onto the table. "Clara has allies. One attacked me in the tunnels. And he said something something that chilled me to the bone."
Ares stood, alert now. "What?" I looked him dead in the eyes. "He said, she will rise." His jaw clenched. "It could be Clara" "No," I interrupted. "It wasn't said like a threat. It was said like a prophecy." Ares paled slightly, and in that moment, I knew he'd heard something similar before. "What aren't you telling me?" I demanded. He hesitated. Then slowly, he pulled something from his coat. A torn scroll, brittle with age. Symbols written in red ink. Not just words. Marks. Sacred, forbidden ones.
I stared. "Where did you get that?" "The Silver Forest. Same night Aria collapsed." "You think this is about her lineage?" "No," he said quietly. "I think this is about her destiny." I swallowed hard. Then we both turned toward the window, where the first rays of morning light touched the horizon. And I couldn't help but whisper, "Goddess help us if Clara knows more than we do."