The kiss lingered in Aria's mind long after she and Damien parted ways that night. Sleep eluded her, replaced by the thrum of their bond that pulsed like a second heartbeat. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt him, his warmth, his hunger, his unspoken fears and for the first time since the dreams began, she didn't feel entirely alone.
But the bond was not theirs alone to carry.
By dawn, the whispers had spread. Wolves who had been loyal to Damien now murmured with unease in the courtyards, muttering about forbidden ties and reckless defiance of the Council's warning. The news had traveled like fire through dry brush: the Alpha had chosen a human, sealing her as his mate.
Aria stepped into the pack's main hall beside Damien and felt the weight of every eye upon her. Conversations hushed to silence. Some wolves bowed their heads out of respect for their Alpha, but others did not hide their scowls.
"Do you feel it?" Damien murmured quietly at her side, his hand brushing against hers as they walked. "Division."
She nodded, her throat dry. The air was thick with it.
From the shadows, Kaelen emerged, his movements sharp, his expression carefully blank. "Alpha," he said, bowing just enough to be respectful but not enough to disguise the challenge in his voice. "The pack is unsettled. They question whether your choice weakens us. Whether it dooms us."
Damien's golden gaze hardened. "They will fall in line."
"And if they don't?" Kaelen asked softly, his eyes flicking briefly to Aria.
Damien stepped forward, the authority in his stance filling the hall. "Then they are no pack of mine."
The declaration silenced the murmurs, but it did not erase the doubt.
Later, when Aria walked through the training yard, she caught fragments of conversations. Wolves spoke of tradition, of bloodlines, of the risk of war with Viktor. Others muttered that Damien had grown reckless since meeting her, that his judgment was clouded by desire.
It was Lydia who found her near the edge of the forest, away from the accusing eyes. "They'll turn on each other before they turn on Viktor," Lydia said grimly. Her arms were folded, her face pale beneath the shifting light.
Aria clenched her fists. "Because of me."
"Because they fear what they don't understand," Lydia corrected. Her gaze softened, though it carried sorrow. "But Kaelen understands too much. And he's using that fear like a blade."
Aria's heart sank. She remembered the coldness in Kaelen's eyes the night before, the way he had watched them unseen in the courtyard. He hadn't just witnessed the kiss he had judged it.
"What will he do?" she whispered.
"Divide the pack," Lydia said. "And once divided, even the strongest Alpha can fall."
That night, the shadows stirred.
Kaelen moved quietly through the barracks, speaking to wolves in hushed tones, playing on their doubts. He whispered of tradition, of the Council's warnings, of Damien's reckless heart. He reminded them of every scar Viktor had left on their lands and painted Damien's love for Aria as betrayal of the pack's survival.
One by one, the whispers grew. A fracture in the foundation of the pack.
And while Damien stood tall in the great hall, defending his choice, his enemies multiplied in the dark corners of his own house.
Aria felt it even before she heard it the bond between her and Damien flickering with unease, the sense of danger rising like a tide.
When Damien returned to her chambers that night, his jaw was tight, his eyes burning with fury. "Kaelen moves against me," he said, his voice low. "He stirs them with poison."
"What can we do?" Aria asked, her pulse quickening.
Damien closed the door behind him and crossed the room in two strides. He gripped her shoulders, his gaze fierce. "We hold fast. We stand together. But Aria....." His voice cracked, just slightly. "If war breaks within the pack before it breaks outside… they'll come for you first."
The truth hung heavy between them.
Aria swallowed hard, her body trembling not with fear, but with resolve. "Then let them come. I won't run from who I am. Not anymore."
Damien pressed his forehead to hers, their bond burning bright in the silence. Yet even as they clung to each other, the storm gathered beyond their walls.
For war was no longer a distant threat.
It had already begun, in whispers and shadows, in betrayal born not of enemies, but of their own.
And when the first blood spilled, it would not be from Viktor's hand it would be from one of their own pack.