Aria didn't sleep.
The room Ronan gave her was warm and soft, the fire crackling in the corner, the blankets thick enough to swallow her whole — but her thoughts refused to settle. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the rogues clawing at the cabin door… or Ronan's silhouette in the snow, glowing with blue eyes that belonged to something powerful and ancient.
Her wrist pulsed gently beneath the blankets, the faint Moonborn mark glowing softly as though it breathed with her.
"Calm down," she whispered to herself. "Just… breathe."
But the longer she tried, the more her heartbeat synced with an unfamiliar rhythm — one that wasn't entirely hers.
A knock sounded on the door.
Aria flinched.
She wrapped the cloak around herself and opened it a crack.
A young girl stood in the hallway — maybe sixteen — with bright amber eyes and thick dark hair braided over her shoulder. She held a folded bundle in her hands.
"Alpha Ronan asked me to bring you these," the girl said shyly.
Aria opened the door wider.
Clothes.
Simple, warm, beautifully made clothes: a soft cream tunic, thick leggings, and boots trimmed with fur.
"Oh," Aria said softly. "Thank you."
The girl smiled nervously. "I'm Mae. One of the pack messengers."
Aria nodded. "I'm Aria."
"You don't have to introduce yourself," Mae whispered, eyes drifting to Aria's glowing wrist. "Everyone already knows who you are."
Aria's stomach dropped. "What… exactly are they saying?"
Mae bit her lip. "That the Alpha brought home a Moonborn."
Aria winced. "I don't even know what that means yet."
Mae hesitated before stepping closer.
"Just be careful," she whispered. "Some people here don't like surprises. Especially surprises that can change everything."
Aria tensed. "What do you mean?"
But Mae's eyes widened suddenly, and she bowed her head.
"Alpha," she murmured.
Ronan stood at the end of the hall, his presence filling the space effortlessly. Even with his expression unreadable, Aria felt calmer just seeing him.
"Mae," Ronan said, nodding. "You may return to your duties."
Mae darted away, leaving Aria alone with Ronan.
He stepped toward her slowly. "How are you feeling?"
Aria managed a small shrug. "Like the world decided to flip itself upside down."
His gaze softened, just barely. "That's understandable."
She held up the folded clothes. "You had these brought for me?"
"I figured you'd prefer not to sleep in a torn coat," he said.
Aria smiled faintly. "Thank you."
But Ronan wasn't smiling. He glanced down the hallway, his eyes narrowing.
"Come with me," he said. "There are some things you need to know."
⸻
Whispers in the Stone
Ronan led her down a long hallway lit by lanterns. Their footsteps echoed softly on the stone floor. Aria kept close to him — not out of fear, but because every corridor and doorway looked similar, and she wasn't ready to get lost in a fortress full of wolves.
They passed several pack members who bowed their heads respectfully to Ronan… then stared openly at Aria.
Not with kindness.
Not with curiosity.
With suspicion.
With fear.
And something sharper — resentment.
Aria swallowed hard.
Finally, she heard voices around the next corner.
"…a human girl? In the inner wing?"
"That's no human. Did you see her wrist?"
"She shouldn't be here. Moonborn or not, she's dangerous."
"She's a threat to the Alpha. A weakness."
Ronan stopped walking.
Aria stopped too — but not because he told her to. The tone of the voices chilled her more than the snowstorm ever had.
Ronan's posture stiffened. His jaw flexed once.
He stepped into the open.
And every conversation died instantly.
Three wolves stood there — two young men and one tall woman with striking silver blond hair and cold green eyes. She was beautiful in a sharp, dangerous way, like a blade shimmering beneath frost.
Ronan spoke without raising his voice. "If you have something to say about my guest, say it to me."
The tall woman didn't flinch.
"Alpha," she said coolly, "we respect your judgment. But bringing a stranger — an untrained, unknown Moonborn — into the heart of Frostfall? That is reckless."
Ronan's voice remained calm. Too calm. "Aria is under my protection."
The woman's eyes slid to Aria with open disdain. "So we've heard."
Aria stepped back instinctively, bumping lightly into Ronan's arm.
The woman's gaze sharpened.
"Fate or not," she hissed, "bringing her here puts us all in danger."
Ronan stepped forward, positioning himself between Aria and the wolves.
"You forget your place, Lyra," he said, voice cold as ice.
So this was Lyra.
Aria felt something twist in her chest — an odd, sour mixture of intimidation and jealousy. Lyra looked like she belonged here. Strong. Beautiful. Confident. Everything Aria wasn't.
Lyra laughed softly. "My place? I am your Beta. I have the right to challenge decisions that put the pack at risk."
Aria stiffened. Beta?
She assumed Betas were second-in-command — and this one clearly didn't like her.
Ronan didn't blink. "You do not challenge me. Not here. Not on this."
"You're blinded," Lyra snarled. "You think fate excuses your weakness?"
A ripple of shock passed through the corridor.
Aria stepped forward before she realized she was moving.
"I'm not here to weaken anyone," she said quietly. "I didn't choose any of this. I don't even know what I am."
Lyra's gaze snapped to her, full of scorn. "Exactly. You don't know what you are. And that makes you even more dangerous."
Ronan growled — a low, deep sound Aria felt in her bones.
"That's enough, Lyra."
But Lyra's eyes narrowed. "If she's so harmless, let her say it — let her say she's not going to destroy this pack."
Aria's throat tightened. "I—"
She didn't know what to say. She didn't want to destroy anything. She just wanted to understand.
Lyra scoffed. "Pathetic."
Ronan stepped forward sharply, voice turning lethal. "Say one more word."
Lyra went silent immediately. Not from fear — but from knowing how close she stood to provoking his wolf fully.
Ronan took Aria's wrist gently — protective, grounding — and pulled her past them.
"Anyone who speaks against her," he said without turning back, "speaks against me."
Silence followed them down the hall.
⸻
Inside the Council Chamber
When they reached a large circular room with a domed ceiling made of frosted glass, Ronan finally stopped.
Fire bowls burned along the walls, filling the space with warm light. In the center stood a stone table carved with intricate symbols.
"This is the council chamber," Ronan said. "Where decisions that shape the pack are made."
Aria hugged her cloak around herself. "And you brought me here because…?"
"To show you," he said, "what you're stepping into."
Aria's heart tightened.
"Ronan… I didn't mean to cause trouble."
"You didn't," he said softly. "Their fear caused trouble."
"But Lyra—"
He cut her off. "Lyra's loyalty to the pack is strong. But she lets emotion cloud her judgment."
Aria blinked. "Emotion? She seemed… angry."
Ronan hesitated for the first time.
"She thought she would be my mate," he said quietly.
Aria's breath caught.
"Oh."
Jealousy tugged in her stomach — sharp, unwelcome.
"And now she sees you," Ronan continued, "and she feels replaced."
Aria swallowed. "But I didn't replace anyone. I didn't choose this bond."
"I know," Ronan said, his voice low. "And she will learn."
He stepped closer, his presence warm and steady.
"You are not a threat, Aria," he murmured. "You're the key to something much bigger than any of us understand yet."
She shook her head. "I don't feel like a key. I feel lost."
He reached out slowly — giving her time to pull away — and brushed his fingers over her glowing wrist.
The mark brightened slightly.
"You won't be lost," he said softly. "Not while I'm here."
Aria's chest tightened.
"Ronan…" she whispered.
Before he could respond, a horn sounded from somewhere deep in the fortress — a low, trembling note.
Ronan stiffened instantly.
"What is that?" Aria asked, fear creeping in.
Ronan's eyes darkened.
"A warning," he said quietly.
"Someone has crossed into Frostfall territory."
Aria's blood turned cold.
"Another rogue?" she whispered.
Ronan shook his head.
"No," he said, jaw tightening.
"This is something worse."
⸻