The roar of the battle echoed through the night, a cacophony of growls, snarls, and the desperate cries of his wolves. Nigel, once the mighty Alpha of the Crescent Moon Pack, now lay defeated, bloodied, his body wracked with pain. The throne he once claimed as his birthright was no longer his. The pack—his pack—had been decimated by rivals, and Nigel had failed to protect them.
He pulled himself upright, using a tree as support, his vision blurry. His breath came in ragged gasps as he wiped blood from his face, but the sting of his wounds was nothing compared to the bitter, gnawing sense of failure in his chest. His pride had been shattered. The wolves he had sworn to protect lay scattered, their loyalty lost with their alpha's fall.
A surge of anger coursed through him, but it was tempered by something deeper. Something he hadn't dared to acknowledge in years. Aria.
His heart clenched at the thought of her. She was the one thing he had lost that he would never be able to redeem. The woman he had cast aside in his pursuit of power.
He hadn't seen her since the night he had sent her away—broken, heartbroken. She had been his mate, his fated Luna, and he had rejected her to solidify his reign. He had believed it was the right choice, that his ambition would give them both everything they deserved.
But as the years had passed, he had learned the cruel truth: power meant nothing without love.
Nigel's hand shot out, gripping the nearest tree as the scent of her hit him like a tidal wave—lavender, wildflowers, and something darker, something more primal. His breath caught in his throat.
The ground seemed to tremble beneath him. It wasn't the footsteps of a rival wolf or the remnants of the battle. No, this was something else. Something powerful. The air around him shifted, electric, thick with a presence that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
And then, she stepped into the clearing.
Aria.
His breath hitched as he saw her, standing in the moonlight, her silhouette framed by the silver glow. The years had changed her. She was taller, more commanding, her posture regal, but there was something in her eyes—the same fire that had once burned between them, now cold, calculating, and filled with rage.
Her hair, long and wild, cascaded down her back, the color shimmering like liquid silver, and her eyes—those piercing emerald eyes—glowed with an intensity that spoke of strength, power, and an untold amount of pain. She was no longer the vulnerable girl he had turned away all those years ago. She was something more. A Luna in her own right, a force to be reckoned with.
Aria's lips curled into a cruel, almost pitying smile as she took a step forward, her boots crunching against the broken earth. There was no warmth in her expression, no trace of the woman he had once loved. Just ice. And fury.
"You really are a sight to behold," she said, her voice low and deadly, the words cutting through the night air like a blade. "Once the mighty Alpha of Crescent Moon. Reduced to this."
Nigel's pulse thundered in his ears, the humiliation of his fall mixing with something else—something primal and terrifying. His wolf stirred within him, aching to respond to the challenge she presented. But he held it back. He couldn't lose control—not again.
"I didn't think you'd come back," he managed to say, his voice rough with emotion he couldn't suppress. "After everything—" He swallowed hard, the weight of his regret crushing him.
Aria's eyes narrowed, her gaze sharpening. She stepped closer, almost as if she were savoring his weakness, relishing in the power she now held over him. "You didn't deserve me then, and you don't deserve me now. But you're about to find out how much of a mistake you made, rejecting your mate."
Her words struck deep, but it was the challenge in her tone that made his chest tighten. She was offering him no forgiveness, no mercy. Only vengeance.
Before Nigel could respond, she moved with the grace of a predator—quick, deliberate—and closed the distance between them. He could feel the heat of her body, the tension in the air thickening as she loomed over him, her scent intoxicating and wild. And yet, despite the anger radiating from her, there was something else—something vulnerable beneath the fury.
He could sense it, feel it in the way her heart raced, in the flicker of something old and familiar in her eyes.
"You can hate me," he said, stepping toward her, his heart hammering in his chest. "But I've never stopped loving you."
The words left his mouth before he could stop them. And for a moment, he saw it—the flash of hesitation in her eyes. The walls she had so carefully built around herself cracking just slightly.
But then, the coldness returned. Her lips curled into a mocking smile. "Love? You threw that away when you rejected me. I'm here for revenge, Nigel. And you'll beg for mercy before I'm done."
She reached for him, a sudden movement that made his heart stutter in his chest. He wanted to pull back, to resist, but his body betrayed him. His hands shot out, grabbing her wrist, pulling her close. His breath caught as their faces were mere inches apart. The familiar warmth of her body filled his senses, and for a moment, he was lost in her presence.
"You don't get to control me anymore," she whispered, her breath hot against his lips. "Not after what you did."
And then, before he could stop it, his lips crashed against hers. It was a kiss born of desperation, of regret, of all the things he had never said. Her lips were warm and soft, but there was nothing gentle about the kiss. It was raw, fiery, full of pent-up rage and desire.
For a moment, he forgot everything—the battle, the pack, the war he had lost. There was only her. Only Aria.
But then, as quickly as it had begun, she pushed him away, her eyes flashing with anger and something darker.
"You don't deserve my love, Nigel," she spat, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "But I'll make you beg for it, in time."