37

The days that followed were a blur of preparation.

The safehouse became their war room, a hidden stronghold deep in the valley, where plans were made and alliances were forged in the flickering firelight.

Cassian’s wolves moved like shadows through the land, slipping between enemy patrols, gathering intelligence, whispering in the ears of those who might be persuaded to betray Selene.

Lucian was relentless, training the ones who would infiltrate the Shadow Order’s ranks, drilling them in their codes, their tactics, their discipline. He was the only one who truly knew how the Order worked—because he had been one of them.

Sebastian took charge of fortifying their defenses, turning the safehouse into something that could hold against an attack. His green eyes were always sharp, always assessing, his every move precise.

Kai and Dante led small teams on supply runs, securing weapons and provisions, making sure they were ready for a fight that would come sooner rather than later.

And Aria?

She trained.

Harder than she ever had before.

Because she knew, deep down, that whatever had happened to her back at the fortress—the power that had surged through her, uncontrolled, raw, dangerous—it wasn’t finished with her.

Selene had seen it.

Selene wanted it.

And if Aria wasn’t careful, she knew that next time, she might not be able to stop it.

It was late when Aria found herself alone in the training yard, the cold night air biting at her skin.

The others had gone inside hours ago, but she had stayed behind, gripping a dagger in each hand, her body tense, her breaths sharp and uneven.

She needed control.

She needed discipline.

She swung, fast, her blades slicing through the air as she moved in silent, practiced strikes.

She didn’t hear the footsteps behind her.

Not until Lucian spoke.

“You’re pushing too hard.”

Aria didn’t stop.

She twisted, slashing at an invisible opponent, sweat trickling down her spine.

Lucian sighed. “Aria.”

She exhaled sharply, coming to a sudden stop. Her chest rose and fell with each ragged breath.

She turned to face him.

He stood in the shadows, arms crossed, his silver eyes glinting in the moonlight. He was still dressed in his training gear, his hair damp from whatever hellish drills he had just put Cassian’s wolves through.

Aria wiped the back of her hand across her forehead. “I’m fine.”

Lucian tilted his head slightly. “You always say that.”

She scowled. “Because it’s always true.”

Lucian stepped closer, his gaze never leaving hers. “Is it?”

Aria tensed.

She didn’t answer.

Because she knew the truth.

She wasn’t fine.

Not even close.

Lucian exhaled. “You think training harder will give you control.”

Aria’s grip on her daggers tightened. “It worked before.”

Lucian studied her carefully. “That was before Selene.”

The name sent a shiver through her.

Aria looked away, jaw clenching. “She’s not as untouchable as she thinks she is.”

Lucian’s smirk was faint. “No. But neither are you.”

Aria’s heart pounded. “I’m not afraid of her.”

Lucian’s silver eyes burned. “You should be.”

The words hit harder than she expected.

Because Lucian wasn’t warning her about Selene’s strength.

He was warning her about herself.

Aria forced herself to meet his gaze. “If you’re trying to scare me, it won’t work.”

Lucian sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t get it, do you?”

Aria narrowed her eyes. “Get what?”

Lucian hesitated for a fraction of a second.

Then—

“You’re already changing.”

The air between them stilled.

Aria’s stomach twisted.

She took a step back. “No.”

Lucian watched her carefully. “Yes.”

She shook her head. “I haven’t—”

“Haven’t what?” Lucian cut in. “Haven’t lost control since the fortress? Haven’t felt it clawing at you, waiting to break free?”

Aria’s breath caught.

Because she had.

Every night.

Every time she closed her eyes, she could feel it.

That power. That dark, twisting thing inside her.

Waiting.

Watching.

Lucian stepped closer. “You don’t have time to pretend it’s not real, Aria.”

She hated how calm he was.

How right he was.

She exhaled sharply. “So what do I do?”

Lucian’s silver eyes darkened. “You learn to use it.”

Her heart pounded. “And if I can’t?”

Lucian’s smirk was cold.

“Then Selene won’t need to kill you.”

Aria’s breath hitched.

Because she knew what he meant.

If she couldn’t control this power—if she couldn’t master it—it would consume her.

Just like Selene wanted.

And the worst part?

She wasn’t sure she could stop it.

The next morning, Aria stood at the edge of the river, staring at her reflection in the dark water.

She barely recognized herself.

Her amber eyes were sharper now, lined with exhaustion, with determination.

She had always fought against what she was. Against the unknown parts of herself.

But not anymore.

Lucian was right.

She didn’t have time to fear this.

She had to control it.

She closed her eyes, reaching for the power inside her, trying to pull it forward without letting it consume her.

At first, there was nothing.

Then—

Heat surged beneath her skin, crackling like wildfire.

She gasped, staggering back.

The river rippled, the air charged with energy.

She clenched her fists, fighting to hold onto it, to keep it steady.

She felt it pulsing inside her, coiled like a serpent, waiting.

But this time—

This time, she didn’t push it away.

She didn’t let it own her.

She owned it.

And for the first time, the power obeyed.

The river stilled.

The energy inside her settled.

Aria exhaled slowly.

This was it.

This was control.

She turned back toward the safehouse, her heart pounding.

She was ready.

Because the next time she faced Selene—

She wouldn’t run.

She wouldn’t break.

She would win.