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Carden's P.O.V. The air outside my cabin was cool as night began to fall, the fading light casting long shadows over the pack house. Despite the chill in the air, I stood outside, leaning against the porch railing, lost in thought. My conversation with Aria earlier in the day had left me feeling conflicted—more than I already had been. I knew we had made the right decision. We had to. There was no room for us to let our feelings take over, not with everything that was at stake. But knowing it was the right decision didn’t make it any easier to live with. I had never been good at ignoring my emotions, and when it came to Aria, it was nearly impossible. I glanced toward the pack house, wondering what she was doing now. Was she thinking about me the way I couldn’t stop thinking about her? Or had she already moved on, focusing on her duties, the way I should be? Before I could fall deeper into my thoughts, the door to the cabin creaked open, and I looked up to see Raven stepping outside. She was wrapped in a thick sweater, her dark hair pulled back, and her expression was calm, but I could see the worry in her eyes. “Hey,” she said softly as she walked toward me, joining me by the railing. “You’ve been out here for a while.” I forced a smile, trying to shake off the thoughts that had been clouding my mind. “Just needed some fresh air,” I said, turning to look out at the trees. Raven didn’t say anything for a moment, and the silence between us stretched, thick with everything we weren’t saying. She had been giving me space lately, not pushing me the way she used to, and part of me was grateful for that. But another part of me—the part that felt guilty for keeping things from her—wished she would ask, just so I wouldn’t have to pretend anymore. “Carden,” she said finally, her voice quiet. “I know something’s been bothering you. You’ve been distant, and I’ve tried to give you space, but… I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Her words were gentle, but there was a vulnerability in them that twisted the guilt inside me even tighter. Raven cared about me, and I was keeping so much from her. Not just about Aria, but about everything. And she didn’t deserve that. “I’m fine,” I said, my voice sounding hollow even to my own ears. “It’s just everything with the pack, with Kane… it’s been a lot.” Raven nodded, but I could tell she didn’t believe me. She studied my face for a moment before looking down, her fingers gripping the railing. “You know,” she said softly, “you don’t have to carry all of this alone. You can talk to me. I’m here.” I swallowed, the weight of her words pressing down on me. She was right, of course. I should be able to talk to her, to let her in. But I couldn’t—not about this. Not when my feelings for Aria were so tangled up in everything. “I know,” I said quietly, my chest tightening. “And I appreciate that, Raven. I do.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. There was a sadness there, a hint of something that told me she was starting to suspect the truth. I could feel it in the way she looked at me, the way her touch lingered just a little longer than usual, as if she was trying to hold on to something that was slipping away. “I just… I want to help,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Whatever it is, I want to be there for you.” I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted to be honest with her, to lay it all out so that we could both stop pretending. But how could I do that without hurting her? How could I admit that my heart wasn’t fully in this, that part of me still belonged to Aria? “Raven, I—” I started, but the words caught in my throat. I didn’t know how to finish. She looked up at me, her eyes filled with so much trust, so much hope, and it broke something inside me. She was waiting for me to say something, to tell her what was really going on. But I couldn’t. Not now. Not like this. Instead, I reached out, taking her hand in mine. It was a small gesture, but it was all I could offer her in that moment. She smiled again, squeezing my hand gently, as if that was enough for now. But I knew it wasn’t. Not really. --- The next morning, I woke with a dull ache in my chest, the remnants of the conversation with Raven weighing on me. I couldn’t shake the feeling that things were starting to unravel, that I was losing control of everything I had tried so hard to hold together. After breakfast, I made my way to the training grounds, hoping that throwing myself into the drills would help clear my head. The warriors were already gathered, going through their morning routines, and I joined them without much thought. But even as I moved through the motions, my mind kept drifting back to Aria. Our conversation in the forest the day before had left me feeling more conflicted than ever. I had told her we couldn’t act on our feelings, that we had to wait for the right time. But when would that time come? Would it ever? I couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like if things were different—if we didn’t have to worry about Raven or Warren or the pack. If we could just be together without all the complications that kept getting in the way. “Focus, Carden!” one of the warriors called out, pulling me back to the present as we sparred. I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. “Sorry,” I muttered, resetting my stance. We continued training, but the distraction never fully left me. I could feel it in every punch, every block—my mind wasn’t where it needed to be, and it was starting to show. The others noticed, too, their concerned glances only adding to the frustration building inside me. By the time the session was over, I was exhausted—not just physically, but mentally. I needed space, time to think, but there was no escaping the weight of everything that had been piling up. As I wiped the sweat from my brow, I saw Aria approaching from across the yard. She looked calm, composed, but I could see the flicker of something in her eyes as she neared. “We need to talk,” she said, her voice low. I nodded, gesturing for her to follow me toward the edge of the training grounds where we could speak in private. Once we were out of earshot, she turned to face me, her expression serious. “I’ve been thinking about what we talked about yesterday,” she began, her voice steady. “And I think you were right. We can’t do this right now. We can’t let our feelings get in the way,” she said, her voice softening as she met my eyes. “Not with everything that’s happening. Not with Raven and Warren involved. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone.” I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her words settle over me. She was right—again. We couldn’t afford to make things more complicated than they already were. Even though every part of me ached to be with her, to finally let myself feel everything I’d been holding back, now wasn’t the time. “We’re doing the right thing, Aria,” I said, my voice low but firm. “We owe it to Raven and Warren to be honest with ourselves. And maybe one day, when things are different…” I trailed off, unable to finish the thought. Because the truth was, I didn’t know if things would ever be different. I didn’t know if there would ever be a perfect time for us, a moment when we could just be together without hurting anyone else. But as I looked at Aria, her gaze filled with the same longing and sadness I felt, I knew we were both clinging to that hope. “One day,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She gave me a small, sad smile before stepping back, as if putting more distance between us would make it easier. “But for now, we focus on the pack. On what needs to be done.” I nodded, my chest tightening. “For now.” She hesitated for a moment longer, then turned and walked away, leaving me standing alone in the shadow of the trees.