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Chapter 13

Author: C.P chuks
last update Last Updated: 2025-09-20 00:33:00

Chapter 13 – The Weight of Silence

The night stretched long, sleepless.

Aria sat by the narrow window of her chamber, her knees drawn up to her chest, the chill of the stone sill seeping into her bones. Moonlight spilled pale across the floor, painting everything in shades of silver and shadow. She had lit no candles. Darkness was safer. Darkness meant no one could read the truth written across her face.

Her reflection in the glass wavered, distorted by the cool breath of night. The woman staring back at her was not the same one who had arrived here—eyes haunted, lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line, shoulders bowed beneath a weight she could not name aloud. A stranger looked back at her, hollowed and uncertain.

Lucien’s voice slithered into her ears again, unbidden. Ask him what your blood is worth…

She pressed her palms against her temples, as if pressure alone could silence the echo. But the harder she pushed, the sharper it became, the words coiling like a serpent tightening its hold.

By dawn, her body ached from tension and her mind burned with exhaustion. But when she left her chamber, she wore a mask as carefully crafted as armor.

---

The packhouse pulsed with weary movement. Warriors crowded the halls, tending wounds both shallow and grave. The scent of blood, herbs, and smoke lingered heavy in the air. Aria moved among them with a steady smile, her hands quick and capable as she bound cuts, offered water, and whispered encouragement.

A young pup tried to slip past her, determined to return to the training yard despite the angry scrape on his knee. Aria crouched, stopping him with gentle hands.

“You’ll only tear it open again,” she said softly, fastening the bandage tighter.

The boy scowled, cheeks flushed with defiance. “I can still fight.”

Her lips curved despite the ache inside. “Then fight tomorrow. Today, rest so you’ll be stronger.”

The pup huffed, but when she tapped his nose lightly, he broke into reluctant laughter. The sound stirred warmth in the hall, brief but real.

To anyone watching, Aria was steady. Useful. A part of the rhythm of the pack.

But Kael was watching closer.

---

He found her later, away from the bustle, when she thought she had escaped unnoticed. She was refolding strips of linen by the window, her fingers trembling faintly though her face remained calm.

“Aria,” Kael said, his voice low.

She froze, then turned, the smile already fixed in place. “Yes?”

His golden eyes searched hers, sharp as sunlight cutting through fog. “Something gnaws at you.”

Her heart stuttered. The linen slipped from her grip. She forced a breath, forced her gaze to meet his. “I’m fine.”

“You’re lying.” His tone held no anger, only certainty.

The words nearly undid her. She wanted to crumble against him, to let the truth pour out until nothing was left hidden. To tell him of the red eyes in the dark, of the whispers about her bloodline, of the dread that if anyone—if he—saw her for what she might be, they would no longer see a girl worth protecting, but a danger to be destroyed.

Her throat tightened. If she spoke, she would shatter everything.

So she bound the truth tighter around herself, wrapping it like chains disguised as armor. “I just need time,” she whispered, each syllable careful. “That’s all.”

Kael studied her for a long, aching moment. His silence was a weight heavier than words. But then he nodded slowly, his hand brushing hers. The touch lingered longer than before, warm and grounding, like he was tethering her to him—afraid she might drift too far into shadows he could not reach.

Aria’s breath caught. She almost leaned into him. Almost told him everything.

But then Rowan’s voice called Kael from down the hall, sharp and insistent.

Kael’s jaw tightened, but he released her hand and turned away.

And just like that, the moment was gone.

---

That night, the silence of her chamber pressed heavier than before.

Aria curled into herself on the narrow bed, her body trembling with the exhaustion of holding up masks no one else could see. She replayed Kael’s words over and over—his certainty, his searching eyes, the touch that had lingered like an unspoken vow.

She had shielded him from the truth. She had shielded herself from his judgment.

But she could not ignore the other truth.

By hiding, by swallowing Lucien’s poison and keeping it buried, she had done exactly what he wanted.

Because Lucien’s greatest weapon was not his crimson gaze or his shadowed strength.

It was silence.

And now, she carried it for him.

Aria buried her face in the pillow, the weight of it pressing down until she could hardly breathe.

Sleep did not come. Only shadows.

And the echo of laughter that was not hers.

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