The Quiet Before
Chapter 106:
The road that led out of the forest was long, winding, and painfully still.
Kael had never been so relieved to see the faint shimmer of torchlight on the horizon. Civilization or what passed for it in these parts, finally lay ahead. A small settlement hugged the edge of the river valley, its rooftops slick with rain and the smell of smoke from burning wood drifting in the air.
They’d been walking for hours, through silence, and not the comfortable kind either, it was the one thick enough with tension, you could almost choke on it.
Lucien walked ahead, broad shoulders bunching with very movement, his hand never straying far from the hilt of his blade. Aria trailed slightly behind, her hood pulled low, the rune on her skin hidden, but the light from the town reflected faintly in her eyes, displaying the haunted look in them.
Kael walked last, his thoughts looping back and forth like a pendulum.
He’d seen her lose control. He’d watched her fall apart, watched the rune flare like something alive and terrible. He’d seen the fear in Lucien’s eyes, not of her, but of losing her again. And through it all, Kael couldn’t decide what hurt more: the fear of what she was becoming, or the reminder that she wasn’t even his to save.
The ground shifted beneath his boots. He didn’t even notice how far behind he’d fallen until Lucien’s voice cut through the air.
“Stay close.”
Kael looked up. The Alpha’s gaze flicked back briefly, stern and protective, before he turned again to scan the road ahead. Aria said nothing, just nodded faintly.
They reached the outer edge of the settlement not long after. It wasn’t large, maybe thirty houses, a few shops, and a single inn perched near the riverside. Lanterns glowed faintly in the mist, and the smell of damp wood and rabbit stew lingered in the air.
Lucien exhaled, his posture finally loosening, just a fraction. “We’ll rest here for the night,” he said.
Kael nodded, scanning the rooftops automatically. “You sure we should? Word spreads fast. Half the packs might already know about what happened in those woods.”
Lucien’s voice hardened. “Then we’ll handle them.”
Aria touched his arm lightly. “He’s right, Lucien. We should keep a low profile, at least until we figure out what’s happening with the rune.”
He turned to her, his expression softening slightly. “You’ll rest first,” he said. “We’ll take shifts after that.”
She didn’t argue, not this time. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days, and her skin was pale under the flickering torchlight.
Kael found the nearest inn and spoke briefly with the keeper, a tall wiry man with hollow eyes and a wary tone. Coins exchanged hands. Rooms were arranged. The man didn’t ask questions, and for that, Kael was grateful.
By the time they settled into the upstairs rooms, exhaustion had begun to weigh heavily on them all. Aria all but collapsed on the narrow bed, still wearing her cloak. Within moments, she was asleep.
Lucien stood near the window, staring out into the fog. Kael leaned against the doorframe, arms folded, studying him.
“She’s burning herself out,” Kael said quietly.
Lucien didn’t turn. “I know.”
“Then maybe stop treating her like she’s breakable glass.”
Lucien’s jaw clenched. “You think I don’t know what she’s capable of?”
“I think you’re terrified,” Kael said flatly. “And not just of losing her. You’re afraid she’ll destroy herself before anyone else gets the chance.”
Lucien finally turned, eyes faintly glowing. “Watch your tone.”
Kael smirked faintly, but there was no humor in it. “See? There it is. That thing where you think if you growl loud enough, the world will bend to your will.” He straightened, stepping forward. “The problem is, Lucien, not everything listens to you: not her, not fate, and definitely not that damn rune.”
For a heartbeat, the tension between them thickened again, that same volatile enegy that never really seemed to go away, only buried under the surface.
Then Lucien turned back to the window. “Get some rest. We're heading out early.”
Kael opened his mouth to argue, but stopped. He knew better than to waste words when Lucien’s mind was made up. He nodded once, quietly, then turned toward the stairs.
“I’ll walk the perimeter,” he said. “We can’t afford surprises.”
Lucien didn’t answer, but Kael didn’t need him to. He stepped out into the hallway, pulling on his cloak as he went.
Outside, the air was cold, the fog thicker now. The faint glow from the inn’s lanterns barely reached the dirt road. His boots crunched softly against the gravel as he walked toward the edge of the town, his breath visible in the chill.
For the first time in days, it was quiet. Really quiet. Leaving room for the thoughts he'd been trying so hard to ignore to come crawling back.
He’d been through hell these past weeks. Fights, ambushes, the endless chase. Watching Aria unravel under a power that didn't want to listen to her, watching Lucien nearly lose himself in anger and grief. He’d stayed because that was what he did. He endured. Protected. Even when it tore him apart to stand just a few feet away from the woman he could never have.
He stopped near the edge of the woods, leaning against a tree, exhaling slowly.
“Stupid,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re a damn fool, Kael.”
He thought about turning back, but something in the wind caught his attention.
A scent.
Faint. Wrong.
He frowned, straightening. “What the—”
He realized it, just a fraction too late.
Because just as he was about to turn around, something hard and sharp slammed into the back of his head. Pain burst white behind his eyes, and the ground rushed up to meet him. His last thought before the darkness swallowed him whole wasn’t of Lucien or the fight they’d had, it was Aria’s fave as she cried.
Then everything went still.