Chapter 80 Echos of the Lost

Chapter 80 Echos of the Lost
(Aria’s POV)

The heartbeat in the sky didn’t fade.

It grew louder.

By the second night, it had taken on rhythm nice and slow, deliberate, like the moon itself was breathing. The wolves grew restless, their ears twitching toward the sound none of us could name. Even Kael, who hid his unease behind the calm of command, had started glancing upward more than usual.

I tried not to. The sight made my stomach twist. The moon wasn’t supposed to move, but it did and too slow to see, too deliberate to be chance. It was watching us.

We made camp at the edge of the Frostline. Wind howled across the plains, scattering snow like ash. Lira huddled near the fire, tracing runes into the dirt with shaking fingers, her lips forming prayers that the flames didn’t seem to hear.

I sat apart, Storm’s cloak bundled in my arms. It still smelled faintly of him like wild mint, rain, something sharp and new. I hadn’t washed it, though Kael had offered. I couldn’t.

Every night I dreamed of him. Sometimes he was a boy again, laughing as he ran through the trees. Other times he was light and silver, searing, too bright to touch. In those dreams, I could still hear him whisper my name.

Mama.

The sound of it haunted me more than the heartbeat ever could.

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Kael approached after dusk, his shadow stretching long across the snow. “You haven’t eaten,” he said quietly.

“I’m not hungry.”

He crouched beside me, his cloak brushing against mine. The firelight caught the scar along his jaw, making it glow faintly gold. “You can’t help him if you fall apart.”

I looked at him then, tired of holding it in. “And what would you know about that?”

He didn’t flinch. “Everything.”

For a moment, the wind was the only thing between us. I almost asked about his brother, the one he never spoke of, but the words caught in my throat. Grief had its own language and one I understood too well.

Instead, I said, “He’s still out there.”

Kael’s gaze flicked to the sky. “You think the goddess kept him?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I think he’s keeping her.”

His brow furrowed. “Explain.”

I reached for the charm around my neck and the crescent fang Storm used to wear. The metal was warm, pulsing faintly, like a tiny heartbeat. “She’s trapped inside him, but that means he’s still alive. The seal didn’t destroy him but it bounded them together.”

Kael’s jaw tightened. “That kind of power doesn’t bind. It consumes.”

I met his eyes, fierce. “Then why can I still feel him?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. The truth sat between us like the fire as bright, dangerous, undeniable.

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We broke camp at dawn. The wolves refused to move until Kael spoke the command in the Old Tongue and each word carrying the weight of the Alpha’s blood. I could feel the magic hum through the ground, reluctant but obeying.

As we crossed the frozen plain, I kept close to Lira. She was muttering about omens again, her eyes sunken, skin pale as frost. “The moon bleeds, the earth shivers,” she whispered. “The balance is gone. The veil is thinning.”

“Between what?” I asked.

She looked at me like she was afraid to say it aloud. “Life and death.”

The wind rose, carrying with it a faint sound, like singing. It came from nowhere and everywhere at once. Low and melodic, almost gentle.

But the wolves heard it too. They froze mid-step, ears flat, growls rumbling low.

Kael raised his hand. “Stay behind me.”

The sound grew louder. I caught fragments of words, old and liquid and something that wasn’t human but knew the shape of human sorrow.

From the snow ahead, light began to bleed upward.

At first I thought it was reflection, moonlight caught on the ice. But it moved and rippling like water.

Then it took form.

A figure stepped out of the light.

Small. Barefoot. Silver-eyed.

My heart stopped.

“Storm,” I breathed.

Kael swore under his breath, drawing his blade. “It’s not him.”

But it was. It had to be. His hair, his hands, his small mouth and it was my son. I could feel him, the bond humming faintly like it had when he was still in my womb.

“Storm,” I said again, stepping forward.

The child tilted his head. When he spoke, his voice was layered with two tones overlapping, one his, one deeper, ageless.

“You should not have come here, Mother.”

My knees weakened. “You’re alive...

“I am many things,” he said, “but I am not alive.”

The wind shifted. The air around him shimmered, blurring his outline. I saw the goddess’s shadow behind his shape and a silhouette of antlers and light, her voice bleeding through his like a second heartbeat.

Kael moved beside me, low and ready. “Release him.”

Storm, no, the thing that wore his shape had smiled faintly. “You sealed me once. Do you think it will hold a second time?”

The ground cracked beneath our feet. Frost split like bone. The wolves howled, their cries scattering into the night.

Lira clutched her wards. “Kael, it’s her and she’s speaking through him!”

Kael didn’t hesitate. He surged forward, blade flashing with gold light.

The boy lifted his hand.

The world broke.

The air exploded outward, throwing Kael back into the snow. The light swallowed him whole, his body hitting the ground with a thud that tore a scream from my throat.

“Stop!” I cried, running forward. “Please, Storm, it’s me!”

The light around him faltered. For a heartbeat, I saw the boy again and frightened, shaking.

“Mama?”

I caught his face in my hands. “I’m here. I’m right here, my heart.”

His fingers clutched weakly at my cloak. “It hurts.”

Tears blurred my vision. “I know, baby. I know. Just hold on.”

But then her voice came again, cold and hollow, echoing through his small frame.

He cannot hold me forever.

The light flared. Pain seared my palms. I didn’t let go.

“Then take me instead!” I screamed. “Leave him!”

The voice paused. The air went still.

You would bear the weight of the moon?

“If it saves him.”

A silence followed that wasn’t silence at all and it was decision. The goddess spoke again, softer now.

Very well.

The light rushed into me.

Cold. Endless. It filled every corner of me, tearing through bone and breath until I couldn’t tell where I ended and she began. I heard Kael shouting my name from somewhere far away, felt his hands trying to pull me back, but it was too late.

The world tilted. The snow melted beneath my feet. I was light, shadow, memory, fury.

And somewhere in the storm of it all, a whisper.

“Mama?”

I reached for him. “Run.”

The ground split open, and everything fell to light.

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When I woke, the world was dark.

The snow was gone. The air was heavy, metallic. I lay on the cold earth, my hands trembling, every vein glowing faintly silver.

Kael knelt beside me, his face pale with exhaustion and fear. “Aria. Can you hear me?”

I tried to speak, but the words caught. My voice came out wrong in two tones, overlapping.

He flinched.

I touched my throat, feeling the hum beneath my skin and the same one that had once belonged to the goddess.

“What happened?” I whispered.

Kael’s eyes searched mine. “You took her place.”

The truth settled like a blade between us.

Somewhere far above, the moon pulsed once and bright, red, alive.

And beneath my skin, I felt it answer.