The wind carried the scent of blood and ash.
As the stranger guided her through the trees, Aria stayed quiet, though her senses were hyper-aware. Every sound, every movement of a branch, every snap beneath their feet sent warnings through her body. Her shoulder throbbed from the rogue's attack claws had torn through skin, and the burn of it was still fresh. But she kept walking.
The man moved ahead of her, silent but alert. She had expected him to talk more, maybe ask questions, demand answers. Most people did when they realized she couldn't speak.
But he didn't.
He walked with purpose and caution, his dark cloak catching the breeze as he led her toward the river. Every so often, he looked over his shoulder not to check on her weakness, but to ensure she was still with him.
Aria stumbled over a rock, her foot catching unexpectedly.
He turned instantly, his arm outstretched to steady her. She froze.
He didn't touch her.
He waited, arm hovering just near her elbow. Giving her the choice.
She blinked up at him, chest heaving slightly.
His eyes striking amber ringed with gold watched her carefully. Not with pity, not with judgment.
With curiosity.
And something else she couldn't name.
"You okay?" he asked, voice low, edged with concern.
She gave a slow nod.
They walked again. As they moved past the trees, the clearing widened, and up ahead, she saw lights.
Not torches, like the ones in her pack. These were small floating glass orbs strung through trees on nearly invisible wire. Warm light spilled onto the forest floor, illuminating a well-guarded path.
A scent reached her wood smoke, pine, cooked meat and the hum of distant conversation.
A camp.
Not wild or temporary. Organized. Guarded.
Pack.
Aria tensed, her steps faltering.
He noticed immediately. "You're safe," he said quietly. "They won't hurt you. You're under my protection."
Under his protection.
Why did those words soothe her so deeply?
He paused at the edge of the lit trail and turned to face her. "You've just survived a rogue attack. You're injured. You don't have to explain anything yet. All I need is a name."
Her throat tightened.
Slowly, she bent, picked up a twig from the ground, and began scratching letters into the dirt. Her hand shook slightly, but the name was clear.
ARIA.
He studied it for a moment, then looked at her again. "Aria," he repeated, his voice softening slightly. "I'm Kael."
Kael.
The name suited him strong, clipped, commanding. She hadn't heard of him before. Which meant he wasn't from any of the five neighboring packs that sometimes allied with hers.
He gestured gently ahead. "Let's get you to a healer. Then we'll talk."
As they walked into the camp, wolves watched them closely. Some were in partial shifts glowing eyes, half-clawed hands, ears twitching. They stood like guards, silent and ready.
But when they saw Kael, they all bowed their heads in respect.
Alpha.
Every one of them recognized his dominance. No one questioned his bringing in a stranger. No one challenged her presence.
That alone stunned Aria.
In the Shadowclaw Pack, her silence had marked her as nothing. Here, it wasn't even mentioned.
They approached a low cabin built from dark timber and stone, smoke curling from the chimney. Kael opened the door and stepped aside for her to enter first.
Inside, the air was warm and smelled of herbs.
A woman with grey-streaked hair and bright green eyes looked up from a mortar and pestle. She blinked once at Aria, then shifted her gaze to Kael.
"She's wounded," Kael said. "Rogues."
The woman nodded and motioned toward a padded bench. Aria hesitated but stepped forward.
The healer examined her shoulder, hands gentle but efficient. "You're lucky," she murmured. "No venom in their claws. Shallow enough to heal without a scar if we act fast."
Aria flinched as something cool touched her skin cleansing alcohol or an herb mixture. The woman worked in silence, bandaging the wound and smearing it with a thick salve that tingled slightly.
All the while, Kael stood near the doorway, arms crossed, eyes scanning the cabin. Not once did he look away as if making sure she was safe even now.
"There," the healer said at last, tying the bandage snugly. "That should hold. You'll be sore in the morning."
Aria gave a slight nod of thanks. The healer looked at her more carefully now. "She's mute?"
"Yes," Kael said, without hesitation or discomfort.
The healer gave a slow nod. "Then I suggest she rest. She's been through more than we can guess."
"I'll handle it," Kael said. Then, to Aria, "Come with me."
Outside, the wind had shifted again, this time softer like it carried the beginning of something new.
Kael led her down a different path, away from the central campfires. He moved with that same ease like he was always aware of everything around him, even when he wasn't looking.
They reached a small cabin tucked against a slope. Wood-framed, modest, with lanterns glowing inside.
He opened the door.
"It's yours for the night," he said. "There's food and water. Clean clothes. No one will bother you."
Aria stepped inside slowly. It was simple, a bed, table, basin. But warm. Clean. Safe.
She turned toward him, one hand resting on the doorframe.
He watched her for a moment longer, as if debating something.
Then he said, "I don't know what happened before I found you, but I know pain when I see it. You don't owe me anything. But if you decide to stay, I'll help you."
Her throat tightened again. Her hands twitched, wanting to say something to respond.
Instead, she lowered her eyes and nodded.
Kael gave a small nod in return, turned, and walked away into the dark.
She sat on the bed much later, bandaged shoulder aching, but the rest of her finally still.
It was the first time in years she had slept somewhere that didn't carry memories of rejection or cruelty. Her fingers brushed over the blanket, soft wool threaded by hand.
She still didn't understand what had happened why he'd helped her, who he truly was. But she remembered the look in his eyes.
Steady. Grounded.
Different from Ronan's.
At the thought of him, her chest tightened again, and she curled slightly.
But it wasn't the same ache as before.
It had been only hours since the rejection, yet something in her had already begun to change.
Maybe it was Kael's pack, treating her like a person and not a burden.
Maybe it was her wolf, now awake, quietly present in her chest.
Or maybe it was simply this
She had survived.
And not just the rogues.
The rejection.
The shame.
The humiliation.
She had survived all of it.
And tomorrow, she would decide what came next.