2: Goodbye

Aria

The night hasn’t ended yet, but I can’t breathe in my cabin anymore.

The humiliation still clings to me like skin that can’t be shed. Every time I close my eyes, I see Riven’s hand closing around Morgan’s instead of mine, see the pack’s faces turning away as if my heartbreak were contagious.

I need my father.

The stone path to his house seem to glow in the early morning light. My boots scrape against it, loud in the silence. The forest feels emptier than usual, like even the trees are ashamed for me. The lights of the Beta’s estate flicker through the mist, and I think absurdly that it looks like salvation.

When I reach the porch, the door opens before I can knock.

“Aria.”

His voice stills everything inside me. Elias Vale, Beta of the Jasper Pack, the man who raised me to stand tall even when bleeding, fills the doorway, shoulders squared, jaw tight. His wolf is close; I see it in the yellow rim of his eyes.

“I didn’t want you to see …”

“I saw enough.” His hands clench into fists. “That boy humiliated you in front of our entire pack. In front of me.”

I step past him, letting the warmth of the house close around me like a lie. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“The hell it doesn’t!” The door slams behind me, rattling the frames. “You were promised to him. The Moon Goddess chose…”

“The Moon Goddess was wrong.” My voice cracks, but I hold his gaze. “He’s made his choice, Father. So have I.”

For a heartbeat, his anger wavers, and what’s left beneath it is heartbreak. He’s a man who fixes things, broken fences, broken bones, broken people, but he can’t fix this.

And then she appears.

“Well,” Serah purrs from the hallway, “I suppose congratulations are in order … for Morgan.”

My stepmother glides into view, wrapped in a silk robe, bare feet silent on the wood floor. She looks as flawless as ever, which only makes me hate her more.

“Don’t start,” my father warns, voice low.

“What? We all saw it, Elias.” Serah’s smile curves into something evil. “The goddess never errs. Perhaps it’s time we accept that Aria was never Luna material.”

My fingers curl into fists. “Say what you want, Serah. I won’t be your problem much longer.”

Her eyes glitter with amusement. “Leaving already? And where will you run, dear? The world is cruel to wolves without packs.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

My father’s tone softens but doesn’t bend. “You don’t have to run, Aria. Let them talk. Scandal fades. You’ll see.”

“Will it?” My voice breaks around the words. “Every time I step outside, I’ll see them. My mate and my sister.”

“Step-sister,” Serah corrects me with venom.

I almost laugh. “Right. Step-sister.”

The air feels too small. I push past them toward the stairs, needing space, air, anything that isn’t their pity or her smirk.

“Aria, please,” my father calls after me. “Stay a few days. Let me speak to the Alpha. Maybe…”

“No.” I turn halfway up the stairs. “I won’t wait around for their wedding announcement.”

The fury drains from his face, leaving only sorrow. “You’re still my little girl.”

“I know.” The words scrape my throat raw. “But I can’t heal here. Every corner of this house smells like them.”

Serah folds her arms, expression glacial. “You’re being dramatic. They love each other. Try having some grace.”

“Don’t you dare defend her.”

She lifts her chin. “You forget yourself.”

“No.” My voice steadies. “I’m finally remembering who I am.”

The silence that follows is heavy enough to break ribs. My father glances between us, shoulders sagging. Finally, he exhales. “If you’re going, let me help you pack.”

“I can handle it.”

He nods once, eyes dull. “Then at least promise me you’ll send word.”

“I will.” We both know it’s a lie.

My old room smells like dust and old grief. The sunrise peeks through the windows, and something catches my attention on my bed.  Another envelope. Black wax, crimson seal.

I hesitate before opening it. Inside, neat golden script reads:

You have lost more than most. Win the Game, and the pain will vanish.

My stomach twists. The same invitation that waited in my cabin. The same impossible promise. I shove it into my bag, pretending it’s nothing.

If I let myself believe it, I might lose what’s left of my sanity.

I pull an old travel pack from beneath the bed, clothes, a few coins, my father’s hunting knife, and a vial of moon oil. The motions are mechanical, knowing that if I let myself feel my feelings, I will break.

The floor creaks. My father stands in the doorway, arms crossed, his anger long spent. “You’re really leaving.”

“I can’t stay.”

He nods slowly. “Your mother, your real mother, would have been proud. You have her strength.”

The words nearly undo me. “I hope that’s enough.”

He presses a kiss to my forehead. “You’ll always have a home here. No matter what she says.”

“Thank you.”

He leaves quietly, closing the door behind him.

Violet stirs beneath my skin, voice low and certain.  ‘Go. Before they take what’s left.’

By the time dawn bruises the sky, my bag is ready. I tie my hair back, pull on my cloak, and descend the stairs one final time.

They’re both waiting by the door. My father’s eyes are rimmed red. Serah’s are dry.

“Don’t do anything foolish,” she says.

“I’ll try my best.”

She leans closer. “Running won’t change what the Moon Goddess has decided.”

“Maybe not.” I shoulder my bag. “But it’ll change me.”

For once, she doesn’t have a reply.

My father grips my shoulder. “Be safe, my girl.”

“I will.”

And then I step into the chill of early morning. The forest stretches before me, endless and waiting. Behind me, the house settles into silence, a tomb for everything I’ve lost.

Ahead lies the unknown: a castle, a Game, and the faint, reckless hope that maybe, just maybe, I can win back something worth keeping.

I don’t look back.