2: Goodbye

Aria

The sun hasn’t risen yet, but I need to see my father. My boots drag against the stone path leading to his house. This used to be my home, but it hasn’t felt that way since my father took a second mate after my mother passed away.  Serah is cruel, but my father can’t see it.  He can’t see past his undying love for her. 

By the time I reach the porch, my legs feel made of lead. The door opens before I can touch it.

“Aria.”

My father’s voice fills the space. Elias Vale stands in the doorway wearing a look that could strike down his enemies.  His wolf is close to the surface; I see it in the yellow flare of his eyes.

“I didn’t want you to see…” I start.

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

I step past him and let the warmth of the house wrap around me. “It doesn’t matter.”

“The hell it doesn’t.” He slams the door. “You were promised to him. The moon chose…”

“The moon made a mistake.” My voice cracks, but I keep moving. “It’s done, Father. He’s made his choice.”

Something flickers in his expression, pain and helplessness. He’s always been the man who could fix anything: broken fences, broken bones, even broken spirits. But he can’t fix this.

From the hall behind him, another voice cuts through the silence like.  “Well,” Serah says, “I suppose congratulations are in order for Morgan.”

My stepmother glides into view, wrapped in a silk robe, her hair unbound. She looks too composed for someone who should at least pretend to care.

“Don’t,” my father growls.

“What? We all saw it, Elias.” Serah’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “The moon doesn’t make mistakes. Perhaps it’s time we stop pretending Aria was meant to be Luna material.”

I stiffen, fingers curling at my sides. “Say what you want, Serah. I won’t be your problem much longer.”

Her gaze sharpens, amused. “Leaving so soon? And where would you go, dear? The pack lands are the only home you’ve ever known.”

“I’ll find somewhere.”

“You’ll do no such thing.” My father’s tone softens, but his stance doesn’t. “You don’t have to run from them, Aria. From any of this. Let them talk.  Soon it’ll fade into nothing and no one will remember.”

“Will it?” I meet his eyes. “Every time I step outside, I’ll see them. Him and her. My own sister.”

Serah tuts. “Step-sister.”

The word lands like another slap. I swallow it down. “Right. Step-sister.”

The room feels too small, the walls too close. I move toward my old room, needing space, air, anything but their voices. But my father follows, and Serah is right behind him.

“Aria, please. Stay a few days. Let me talk to the Alpha. Maybe…”

“No.” I turn to face him. “I’m not waiting around for Riven’s wedding announcement.”

His expression cracks, grief bleeding through the fury. “You’re my little girl.”

“I know.” My throat tightens. “But I can’t stay here, not like this. Every corner of this house smells like them.”

Serah crosses her arms. “You’re being dramatic. Morgan never meant for this to happen.  They are in love.”

“Don’t.” The word comes out low, warning. “Don’t defend her.”

Her lips twitch. “You forget yourself.”

“No,” I whisper, “I’m finally remembering who I am.”

The air thickens with silence. My father looks between us, the tension bleeding into his shoulders. Finally, he exhales, defeated. “If you’re going, at least let me help you pack.”

“I can handle it.”

He nods once, jaw tight. “Then promise me you’ll send word. Wherever you end up.”

“I will.” It’s a lie, and he knows it, but neither of us says so.

I leave them standing there and climb the narrow stairs to my old room. The house creaks around me.  I push the door open and sigh as I look at the dust-covered room.  I only need a few of my old things, and then I can go.    

I flick on the light, and I see it again.  On my bed, a black envelope sits on the pillow, just like the one in my cabin.  I swallow hard as I break the wax seal. 

“You have lost more than most.  Winning the game can take that pain away.” 

I stuff it into my bag, pretending like it doesn’t exist.  If I do, I might start to question my own sanity.

I pull out a worn travel bag from under the bed and start packing.  Clothes, a few coins, my father’s hunting knife, a small vial of moon oil. I move mechanically, focusing on the motions so I don’t have to think about Riven’s face, or Morgan’s stupid smile.

A floorboard creaks behind me. My father stands in the doorway, arms crossed. His anger has cooled into sorrow. “You’re really going.”

“I can’t heal here.”

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

He leaves without another word, closing the door softly behind him.

I let out a shaky breath, shoulders sagging. Violet stirs under my skin, restless. ‘Go,’ she whispers. ‘Before they take more from us.’

By the time dawn begins to paint the sky pink, my bag is ready. I dress in travel leathers, tie my hair back, and take one last look around the room. Every mark on the wall, every thread in the blanket holds pieces of a life that no longer belongs to me.

Downstairs, I find my father waiting by the door, eyes shadowed but proud. Serah stands beside him, arms crossed, lips tight.

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

“I’ll try my best,” I reply.

She steps closer, lowering her voice. “Running won’t change what the moon decided.”

I meet her gaze. “Maybe not. But it’ll change me.”

She falters, just a flicker, then smirks. “Good luck, dear. The world isn’t kind to wolves without a pack.”

I smile back, small and sharp. “Then it’s a good thing I’m not kind either.”

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

“I will.”

And then I turn away, stepping into the chill of early morning. The forest stretches before me, mist curling around the roots like breath. Behind me, the house creaks, full of ghosts I’m not ready to forgive. Ahead, somewhere beyond the horizon, waits the castle, the Game, and the promise of something that might finally set me free.

I don’t look back.