70
70
Aria’s P.O.V.
The days following my conversation with Carden seemed to drag by slowly, each one blurring into the next. Despite my best efforts to throw myself into my responsibilities, I found it hard to escape the lingering ache that came with every stolen glance, every half-smile Carden and I exchanged as we passed each other around the pack.
I had made a choice. I had set boundaries. But knowing something was right and feeling it were two very different things, and I was struggling to stay grounded in the middle of all of it.
One afternoon, while I was cataloging supplies in the pack house storage room, I heard footsteps approaching. My heart tightened instinctively, but I brushed it off. I had a job to do. No distractions.
“Aria.” Carden’s voice sounded behind me, soft yet steady.
I paused, feeling my heartbeat quicken. I knew that tone—it was the one he used when he had something serious on his mind. I turned to face him, feeling a mixture of curiosity and dread. “What is it, Carden?”
He hesitated, as if he were choosing his words carefully. “I wanted to check in. You’ve been working constantly, and I just... I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
The sincerity in his gaze made it hard to maintain my resolve. It would be so easy to reach out, to let my guard down, but I reminded myself of the boundaries we’d set. “I’m fine,” I replied, trying to keep my tone light. “There’s a lot to keep up with, but I can handle it.”
He nodded, his jaw tightening. “I know. You’re more capable than anyone here. I just don’t want you to carry more than you need to.” There was a flicker of something in his eyes—concern, maybe, or regret—but he looked away quickly, as if trying to shield me from it.
I sighed, leaning against a shelf as I tried to find the right words. “I appreciate that, Carden. I do. But I need to keep focused. We both do. The pack... the responsibilities we have... it’s all that matters right now.”
He nodded, looking down at his hands as he spoke. “I know. But that doesn’t make it any easier, does it?”
“No,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “It doesn’t.”
The silence between us stretched, thick with everything we weren’t saying. I could feel the weight of his presence, the quiet intensity that had always drawn me to him. Part of me wanted to reach out, to close the distance between us, but I forced myself to stay rooted. We had made a decision, and I had to stick to it.
After a moment, he stepped back, giving me a small, sad smile. “Right. Well, I won’t keep you any longer. Just… take care of yourself, okay?”
“You too, Carden,” I replied, my heart aching as he turned and walked away. I watched him go, feeling a pang of longing that I knew I couldn’t indulge. This was the path we had chosen, and I had to stay strong, even if it meant denying everything I felt.
\---
As the days passed, I did my best to avoid situations that would put me alone with Carden. It wasn’t easy—he was everywhere, always overseeing patrols, guiding the warriors, and leading strategy meetings. Our lives were so intertwined that I couldn’t completely avoid him, but I made sure to keep my distance as much as possible.
One evening, as I was heading back to my cabin, Raven approached me. She looked unusually tense, her gaze darting around as if she were expecting someone to jump out at her.
“Aria, do you have a minute?” she asked, her voice soft but urgent.
“Of course,” I replied, taken aback by her tone. “Is everything alright?”
She gave a small, forced smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I just wanted to talk. About… everything. The pack, Carden… Kane.” Her voice faltered on the last word, and I felt a pang of sympathy. We were all carrying so much, and it was clear that the weight was starting to take its toll on her as well.
“What’s on your mind?” I asked, keeping my tone gentle.
She hesitated, glancing down at her hands before meeting my gaze. “I know that things have been tense lately. Everyone’s been on edge, and I just… I guess I wanted to make sure we’re all on the same page. That we’re working toward the same goal.”
“Of course,” I said, frowning slightly. “Raven, you know we’re all in this together. The pack’s safety is our top priority.”
She nodded, but there was a flicker of doubt in her eyes. “It’s just… sometimes it feels like there are… other things getting in the way. Distractions, I guess. I just want to make sure that we’re all focused on what really matters.”
Her words struck a nerve, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she was hinting at something more. Did she know about the tension between Carden and me? Was she aware of the feelings I was struggling to suppress? I kept my expression neutral, refusing to let anything slip.
“We’re all focused, Raven,” I said, my voice steady. “We’re here for the pack. Nothing else.”
She studied me for a moment, as if trying to gauge the truth in my words. Then she nodded, a faint smile crossing her lips. “Good. That’s… that’s all I needed to hear.”
With that, she turned and walked away, leaving me standing alone in the fading light. I watched her go, a mixture of relief and guilt churning in my stomach. I had told her the truth—or at least part of it. I was here for the pack. I was focused. But that didn’t erase the feelings that lingered, the emotions I was trying so hard to ignore.
\---
That night, I found myself restless, unable to sleep as my mind replayed the events of the day. My conversation with Raven had left me feeling uneasy, as if a warning bell had been set off deep within me. She was suspicious—I could feel it—and I knew that if I wasn’t careful, she would start digging, searching for answers that I wasn’t ready to give.
I turned over, staring at the ceiling as the weight of everything settled over me. The boundaries I had set, the promises I had made—they were all starting to feel like a fragile web, stretched thin and ready to break. And I was at the center, struggling to hold it all together.
In the quiet darkness of my cabin, I finally allowed myself to admit what I had been avoiding for so long: I couldn’t keep doing this. I couldn’t keep pushing my feelings down, pretending that they didn’t exist. It was exhausting, draining, and it was taking a toll on every part of me.
But what other choice did I have? Acting on my feelings would only complicate things further, would only hurt the people I cared about. I couldn’t afford to let my emotions get in the way of the pack’s safety, couldn’t let my heart lead me down a path that would end in ruin.
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath as I tried to steady myself. This was the path I had chosen, and I would see it through, no matter the cost. I would hold my boundaries, keep my promises, and protect the pack—even if it meant sacrificing my own happiness.
\---
The next morning, I woke with a sense of renewed resolve. I would bury my feelings, focus on my duties, and do whatever it took to keep the pack safe. I wouldn’t let my emotions control me—not anymore.
As I made my way to the training grounds, I saw Carden already there, his focus intense as he guided the warriors through their drills. He glanced up as I approached, giving me a small nod in acknowledgment. I returned it, keeping my expression neutral as I took my place among the others.
We worked in silence, each of us focused on our tasks, and I could feel the weight of unspoken words lingering between us. But I refused to give in, refused to let myself be swayed by the pull that had once felt so irresistible.
As the session ended, Carden caught my eye, his gaze filled with a question I couldn’t answer. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but I shook my head, a silent reminder of the boundaries we had set.
“Thank you, Carden,” I said, my tone polite but distant. “For everything.”
He hesitated, his expression a mixture of hurt and understanding, but he nodded, his voice quiet. “Of course, Aria.”
As he turned to leave, I felt a pang of regret, a whisper of everything we had left unsaid. But I pushed it down, steeling myself against the ache in my chest.
This was the right choice. This was the path I had chosen.
And I would see it through, no matter what.