The battlefield was quiet now, but the silence was heavier than the clash of war. Smoke curled from the burned grass, the air thick with the scent of blood and iron. The wolves stood scattered, their bodies trembling with exhaustion, their golden eyes dim with grief.
And in the center of it all knelt Aria.
Her hands clutched Lila's still body, her fingers smeared with blood that was already cooling. She had stopped crying; her tears had dried into salt on her cheeks. What filled her now was something worse an emptiness so vast it threatened to swallow her whole.
Lila was gone.
No matter how many times Aria whispered her name, shook her shoulder, or begged for one more breath, Lila didn't answer. The stillness of her chest was a cruel finality, the silence louder than any scream.
"Aria…" Damien's voice was rough, quiet, careful. He knelt beside her, his hand hovering over her shoulder. He didn't touch her not yet. He knew that kind of pain couldn't be soothed with comfort.
But Aria turned on him, her storm-gray eyes blazing with something raw and dangerous. "You were supposed to protect her."
The words cut deeper than any blade. Damien flinched, his jaw tightening, but he didn't defend himself. "I failed her," he admitted, his voice low. "I failed both of you."
Her chest heaved, fury and grief warring within her. "She's dead because of me. Because she followed me. Because she believed in me." Her voice cracked, her hands trembling as she stroked Lila's hair. "If I weren't whatever this is she'd still be alive."
"No," Damien growled, more sharply this time. His eyes blazed gold, fierce, refusing to let her fall into the pit she was spiraling toward. "Don't you dare take this onto yourself. Lila chose to stand by you. She knew the risk. She gave her life for you, Aria, because she believed you were worth it."
Aria shook her head, choking on a bitter laugh. "Worth it? I can't even control myself. I'm dangerous, Damien. I see fire in my dreams, I hear voices in my head, I lose control every time the moon touches me and now Lila's blood is on my hands."
Her voice broke at the last word, and she slammed her fists into the dirt, leaving streaks of blood and earth across her palms. "I can't do this! I'm not strong enough. I'm not… I'm not who you think I am!"
For a moment, Damien said nothing. He only looked at her really looked at her. At the way her body shook, at the storm inside her chest, at the fragile human heart that carried the weight of something far beyond her years.
And then he reached for her, pulling her into his arms despite her resistance. She beat at his chest, screamed into his shoulder, sobbed until her voice cracked but he didn't let go. His embrace was iron, his warmth steady, his heart pounding against hers like an anchor in the storm.
"You are breaking," he whispered into her hair, his voice raw, "but you are not broken. Do you hear me, Aria? You are not broken."
Her fists stilled, her body trembling as his words sank into her. She pressed her forehead against his chest, her voice hoarse. "Then why does it feel like I'm dying?"
"Because you loved her," Damien murmured. "Because your heart is human enough to grieve and wolf enough to rage. That's what makes you strong, Aria. Not control. Not power. But the fire inside you that refuses to go out, even when everything else tries to put it out."
Aria closed her eyes, her tears wetting his skin. For a long time, she simply let herself collapse into him, her walls shattered, her grief raw. She let the storm take her.
And then, slowly, she felt it that same fire she had dreamed of. Not wild, not consuming, but steady. A spark that survived even in the ashes of despair.
She pulled back, her gaze lifting to Lydia's body once more. Her throat tightened, but her voice was steadier now. "She gave her life for me. If I fall apart now… if I let this break me… then it means nothing."
Damien cupped her face, his golden eyes searching hers. "So don't let it mean nothing."
Aria inhaled shakily, her body trembling with exhaustion, with pain, with fury. But beneath it all, the fire burned on.
She pressed one last kiss to Lydia's forehead, her whisper trembling. "I'll carry you with me. Always."
And then she stood.
The wolves around her bowed their heads, a low mournful howl rising into the night in Lydia's honor. Aria's hands still shook, her heart still bled, but her back was straight. Her eyes, though wet with tears, glimmered with resolve.
This was her breaking point. But she would not break.
Instead, she would rise.