Chapter Seven
Silas
Aria sleeps again.
It feels like all she does is sleep and eat like a little bird. But I know that will change once her body has recovered enough from what those bastards did to her.
She’s not peaceful, she’s still not capable of that, but her breathing is steadier now, her muscles are looser beneath the blanket. Every time she exhales without waking in a panic, it feels like a small victory.
A fragile one. One I guard with everything in me.
I’m sitting on the floor again, back against the side of the bed. I’ve been here for hours, my leg’s half numb, my spine feels like a rusted hinge, and I don’t care. Being closer calms her and me. And if she reaches out in her sleep again, I want to be near enough to see it.
Near enough to feel it.
The sun is sliding toward late afternoon when the knock comes. Soft and measured. Not one of the pack warriors, they know not to come here.
“Silas?” Peyton’s voice. “I need a moment. It’s important.”
I sigh quietly and stand, rolling my neck until it cracks. Aria shifts at the sound, murmuring something under her breath. I press my hand lightly to the mattress, so she feels a familiar presence.
“I’ll be right outside,” I whisper.
She settles and my chest tightens. It’s the little moments between us, moments others would take for granted, that mean the most to me right now.
I step out, closing the door softly. Peyton stands there, arms folded in a way that tells me she’s not here just to chat. Marc’s leaning against the hallway wall behind her, expression grim.
“What is it?” I ask, already bracing.
Peyton exchanges a look with Marc before saying carefully, “The Hunters are moving.”
My stomach drops.
Marc straightens. “We intercepted new comms. They know she’s here.”
A cold snarl rips from my chest before I can stop it. Peyton reaches out, touching my arm lightly, not to calm me, but to anchor.
“There’s more,” she says.
“Say it,” I grit out.
“They fed us false intel.” Peyton grimaces. “Deliberately.”
I blink. “What kind of intel?”
Marc folds his arms. “They reported one of their transport camps was abandoned and exposed. Practically begged us to attack it.”
I narrow my eyes. “Why would they want us there?”
“To ambush you,” Peyton says simply.
White-hot fury ignites in my veins. Aria’s fear last night. Her panic. Her nightmares. They planned to use her rescue as bait.
I grind my teeth, trying not to punch a hole through the wall. “Did anyone get hurt?”
“No,” Marc says. “Caine caught the lie before sending anyone out. But the point stands, they’re not retreating. They’re rearranging.”
“Preparing,” Peyton adds.
Preparing for what? To take her back? To take others like her? To hurt, destroy, and dismantle the Katu pack I now call home? My dire wolf claws at my insides, snarling.
“Aria can’t know,” I say immediately.
Peyton nods. “We weren’t planning to tell her yet.”
Marc pushes off the wall. “But you need to be ready, Silas. They’re bold now. More organized. This wasn’t some rogue team. This was coordinated.”
Coordinated. Meaning this goes higher than any of us thought.
“Were they looking for her specifically,” I ask quietly, “or for any leopard?”
Marc’s face darkens. “We think they’re looking for all of them.”
A chill moves through me.
“They think she’s connected to the hidden clan,” Peyton adds softly. “Even if she isn’t—”
“She is,” I cut in. I can feel it. The way she talked about ‘the others.’ The longing in her voice when she looked at the forest. “She knows where she came from.”
“And she’ll tell you when she’s ready,” Peyton says gently. “But you need to understand the danger that puts her in.”
“I do,” I whisper.
The anger simmering beneath my skin sharpens. The Hunters didn’t just break her, they hunted her because she’s rare. Precious. Something they wanted to weaponize or destroy.
“Do you want us, her, to leave?” I ask, facing Peyton. I knew this moment would come eventually.
She glares. “Don’t be an asshole. You became a part of this pack the moment you came back with Lola and Thomas. We don’t leave our own when times get tough.”
I feel like a chastised child. I nod my understanding. “I swear to you,” I say quietly, “I won’t let them touch her again.”
Peyton nods, but her eyes soften with worry. “That vow is going to cost you something, Silas.”
“I don’t care.”
Marc claps a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll manage the perimeter. You handle her. But the pack needs you briefly. Ten minutes. Tops.”
I stiffen. “I can’t leave her that long.”
“You can,” Peyton says gently. “She’s resting. And if there’s danger, we need your input.”
I hate the logic. But they’re right. I exhale slowly. “Fine. Ten minutes.”
Peyton squeezes my arm once before they turn to go.
I slip back inside the room, heart beating harder from the conversation. Aria is curled in the same spot, hand unconsciously stretched toward where I’d been sitting. That simple gesture almost drops me to my knees.
I take the blanket and pull it gently over her hand, so she doesn’t wake up reaching for something that isn’t there.
“I’ll be back,” I whisper. She shifts, brow softening. “I promise.”
I rush through the compound until I get to the main pack house. I want this over quickly so I can get back to her before she wakes up. When I get inside the tension is thick enough to choke on. Godrick and the twins lean against the wall, arms crossed, brows heavy with concern.
Caine stands at the head of the room.
The moment he sees me, he gestures to the map table. “They wanted us there, Silas. Whoever’s running these Hunters, it’s not the same unit we’ve seen before.”
I nod stiffly. “They’re more coordinated.”
“More ruthless,” Godrick adds.
“They expected us to grab Aria,” Sayer says. “We walked right into their plan.”
“But we got out,” Rayleigh counters. “And now they’re pissed.”
Caine looks at me. “There’s another issue.”
My jaw clenches. “What now?”
“The council.” He hesitates. “They want to see her.”
A blast of heat spikes through my chest. “Absolutely not.”
“You don’t have to convince me,” Caine says calmly. “But they’ll push. They claim it’s for information.”
“She’s barely able to eat,” I growl. “She’s terrified of wolves, Caine. Terrified of shifting. Terrified of everything.”
“I know,” he says gently.
“They’re not touching her,” I snarl.
“They won’t.” Caine meets my eyes steadily. “Not while she’s in this state. And not without her, and your, permission.”
My chest eases slightly at that.
“Focus on her,” Caine says. “We’ll handle the rest. I just wanted to be transparent about what is happening.”
I exhale shakily. “Okay.”
“Go,” he says softly. “She’ll wake soon.”
I don’t need to be told twice. I haul ass back across the compound. When I reach the room, the moment I open the door, I know something is wrong.
Aria sits on the bed. Her back is rigid, the blanket wrapped around her like armor. Her breathing is fast. Too fast and her pupils blown wide.
Fear. Terror.
“Aria?” I shut the door fast, my heartbeat crashing in my ears. “What happened?”
She doesn’t look at me. She’s staring at the window.
“The howl,” she whispers. “Something howled.”
My stomach drops. A border call. It’s routine and harmless. But to her? It would seem like a threat.
“I’m sorry,” I say softly as I approach. “It was a patrol change. Not danger.”
She’s trembling. “I thought ... I thought it was them.”
I kneel beside the bed. “Aria. Look at me.”
She does. Slowly. Hesitantly. Her eyes glassy with panic.
“It wasn’t Hunters,” I say gently. “It was pack. The Katu pack. Our pack. They’re just checking the borders.”
“The Hunters howl,” she whispers, her gaze lost in a far-off memory.
I freeze. “What?”
Her voice shakes. “When they bring someone new. They howl before the doors open. It’s like ... like they’re announcing it. Or warning the others to get ready.”
My blood runs cold. This is new information. Valuable information but fucked up beyond belief. I push the rage down and take her hand slowly, hovering first, waiting for a flinch.
There isn’t one. I cover her trembling fingers with mine.
“They’re not here,” I whisper. “They can’t find you. I won’t let them.”
Her voice breaks. “Do you promise?”
“I swear it.”
The bond flickers, warmth, fear, connection, and pain all tangled together.
She squeezes my hand tighter. Just a little. Her skin is cold. Too cold. My dire wolf whines, wanting to pull her into my arms. Not yet.
I guide her hand to rest on her own lap slowly and sit at the edge of the bed, not touching her, but near.
She breathes unevenly. “Silas?”
“Yes?”
“You came back.”
My chest aches. “Of course I came back.”
She nods, but she doesn’t look convinced.
“Do you want to rest again?” I ask softly.
“No.” She pulls her knees up, hugging them. “If I sleep, I’ll dream.”
I swallow hard. “Then I’ll stay awake with you.”
Her eyes flick to me, wide and vulnerable. “Won’t you be tired?”
“I’ll sleep when you’re safe.”
She frowns. “But I am safe.”
I shake my head. “You may be physically safe, but it won’t count until you feel safe.”
Her breath catches. A tear slips down her cheek. She doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she’s gotten used to it.
“Silas,” she whispers again.
“Yeah?”
“You didn’t leave when I panicked.”
“No,” I say quietly. “I won’t leave because of that.”
“Or when I couldn’t shift.”
“Never.”
“Or when I...” Her voice cracks.
“Aria.” I lean in slightly. “I’m not leaving.”
She stares at me for a long, trembling moment.
Then, very slowly, she lifts her hand and reaches toward me. She doesn’t touch me. Not really. Her fingertips brush the sleeve of my shirt. A feather-light contact. Barely there. But it hits like lightning.
My heart stops. My breath stops. My dire wolf stops. Her hand shakes, but she keeps it there.
“I don’t...” she whispers, voice breaking. “I don’t want to be afraid of you.”
Something fractures inside me. Painful. Beautiful. Terrifying.
“You don’t have to be,” I say, voice low. “I’ll earn your trust. Every day.”
Her lips tremble. “Even if it takes a long time?”
“Especially if it takes a long time.”
She inhales shakily and doesn’t pull her hand away. Not for several long, heavy seconds. When she does, she curls back into herself, but the panic has eased. Her breathing steadies. Her shoulders relax by a fraction. And for the first time since I found her...
She looks at me without fear. Without flinching. Without bracing for pain. Just ... looking. Present and awake. Alive. And I know something shifted here. Something delicate. Something real. Something I’m terrified to name.
The bond pulses, warm, faint, and hopeful. Not healed but not as broken as before. And I’ll fight the whole goddamned world to protect that spark. To protect her.