The forest waited.
For two nights Aria had endured its cruelty—its whispers, its beast, its endless shadows. She bore wounds across her arms and back, her body weakened to the edge of collapse. Yet as dawn broke on the third day, a strange calm settled inside her.
This would be the final night. One way or another, it would end.
She knelt by the stream, washing dried blood from her skin, watching it cloud the water like smoke. Her reflection looked fragile, half-ghost, yet there was fire in her eyes she had never seen before. She touched her face, whispering to the woman staring back at her.
"You're still here."
The forest replied with a hush of leaves. Almost approval.
---
Beyond the gates, Damian hadn't moved from his vigil. Two nights of restraint had hollowed his features, darkened the gold in his eyes. His wolf prowled just beneath the surface, restless and furious. Every throb of pain through the bond gnawed at his sanity.
Rowan approached again, quietly. "Tonight will decide her fate."
Damian's jaw tightened. "Her fate. And mine."
"You know what the elders expect," Rowan said carefully. "If she survives, they'll demand proof of her worth. If she fails—"
"She won't fail," Damian cut in, voice harsh, certain. "I won't allow it."
Rowan hesitated, then lowered his voice. "And if she survives, Alpha? What then? Will you claim her before the pack?"
Damian's silence was answer enough.
---
As the sun dipped, the forest transformed. Shadows thickened, swallowing the light. The mist crept low, dense and suffocating. Aria's pulse quickened as she gripped a sharpened branch.
She knew the beast would return. Stronger. Angrier. But this time, she wasn't only afraid. She was ready.
The whispers had grown louder, clearer. They spoke in fragments—memories not her own, power not her own. Images of a woman with silver eyes and hands alight with runes. Words carved into stone: Chosen. Keeper. Bloodline.
Aria didn't understand it, not fully. But she knew now that the Trial was more than a punishment. It was a test. Not just of survival, but of truth.
---
The beast came with the moonrise.
Its roar shattered the silence, deeper than before, shaking the trees. It emerged from the mist larger than she remembered, its body rippling with shadows, its claws dripping with venom. Its eyes locked onto hers, blazing with hunger.
Aria planted her feet. Her hands trembled, but she lifted them, palms open. The runes beneath her skin flickered faintly, waiting.
"You want me?" she whispered, voice raw. "Then come."
It charged.
Aria's hands flared with light. The ground trembled. She thrust her palms forward, and a wave of energy burst outward, striking the beast mid-leap. It crashed to the earth with a howl, smoke curling from its hide.
But it rose again. Stronger. Its jaws opened wide, snapping with fury.
Aria gasped, knees buckling. The power burned through her like fire, stealing her breath. The whispers urged her: More. Claim it.
She dug deeper. Images flooded her mind—wolves bowing, silver fire, a bloodline reaching back centuries. She was not just a human girl caught by fate. She was something else. Something hidden.
The beast lunged again. Aria met it head-on. Her scream tore through the night as light erupted from her body, searing bright enough to burn away the mist.
When it struck her barrier, the forest itself shuddered. Trees bent, earth split, the air quaked with power. The beast shrieked, stumbling, its form flickering as though made of shadows.
Aria staggered, every vein blazing with pain, but she refused to yield. "I am not prey," she shouted, voice breaking. "I am not weak. I am not yours!"
With a final surge, she thrust the light forward.
The beast roared, its body unraveling into smoke and ash. The ground shook as it dissolved into the mist, leaving only silence.
Aria collapsed to her knees, chest heaving, vision swimming. Her palms still glowed faintly, but the power was fading, leaving her hollow and trembling.
The whispers quieted. Only one voice remained, soft, certain: You are chosen.
---
At the gates, Damian fell to his knees.
Her triumph had slammed through the bond like lightning, filling him with fire and relief so strong it broke his composure. He gripped the earth, eyes burning.
"She did it," he whispered hoarsely. "She survived."
The elders exchanged uneasy looks. Kael's face was grim. "If what you felt is true, then she is dangerous. No ordinary human wields the forest's power."
"She is mine," Damian snarled, rising, his aura crackling with fury. "Not dangerous. Not a curse. Mine."
Rowan stepped between them, tense. "Alpha—"
But Damian was already moving. The Trial was not yet over. He would not wait for dawn to claim her.
---
In the forest, Aria staggered toward the clearing, every step agony. Her body screamed for rest, but something pulled her forward—a tug in her chest, familiar, magnetic.
The bond.
She broke through the last line of trees. And there he was. Damian. Standing tall, golden eyes locked on hers, his chest rising and falling like he had been holding his breath for days.
For a heartbeat, the world stilled.
Then he was moving, closing the distance. His hands caught her shoulders, steadying her as she swayed. His scent enveloped her—cedar, smoke, storm.
"You're alive," he whispered, voice raw. His thumb brushed blood from her cheek. His gaze searched her face like he was memorizing her.
Aria's throat tightened. "Barely."
Damian's jaw clenched. "Never again. I'll never let them touch you again."
Behind them, the elders arrived, their faces sharp with judgment. Kael's voice cut the moment in two.
"The Trial is finished. She survived. But this does not make her Luna. The pack will not accept it."
Damian turned, his arm sliding protectively around Aria. His aura flared, silencing the clearing.
"They will accept it," he growled, eyes glowing. "Because she is mine. Because she is chosen. And because I will burn down anyone who dares deny it."
Aria swayed against him, too weak to speak, but her heart thundered. For the first time, Damian had said it—not with reluctance, not with denial, but with certainty.
The Final Night had ended. But the war for their bond had only just begun.
---