Chapter 48 48
ARIELLE'S POV
Once Aunt Everly was out of earshot, I nudged Sheila as she started a slow jog beside me. “You’re such a liar, party-queen.”
She rolled her eyes, a grin tugging at her lips. “Whatever. It was one night.”
“Honestly, reduce the partying, will you? At least before you give your mom a heart attack.”
“Hello?” she said, puffing slightly as she ran. “I’m 18. I’m not a child. I can make my own decisions.”
“I know,” I shot back, keeping pace. “Ever since you turned eighteen a few weeks ago, you’ve been talking about it like it’s a magical shield that lets you do anything. It’s not a leverage card, Sheila.”
“Oh, and what would you know about leverage?” she retorted. “You’re the one about to move in with a scary Alpha because you have no other options. Don’t lecture me about responsibility.”
We were about to descend into a proper, familiar argument when a much sharper, louder voice cut through the air, overpowering ours.
We both froze mid-step and turned.
My mother and Aunt Everly were standing near the weapon racks, and they were arguing. Not the usual tense exchanges, but a proper, heated disagreement. Aunt Everly’s face was flushed, her gestures sharp. My mother stood ramrod straight, her expression like carved ice.
“I don’t care what the old treaties say, Serena! Sending them that far without a full escort is madness with the current rogue activity!” Aunt Everly’s voice carried across the field.
“The patrol routes are clearly marked and well within our allied borders,” my mother fired back, her voice cold and precise. “We do not show weakness by over-escorting every supply run. It wastes resources and manpower.”
“It’s not weakness, it’s caution! Or have you forgotten what happened on the western ridge last—”
“I have forgotten nothing!” My mother’s voice snapped, a whip-crack of sound. “But I am the Luna, and my word on pack security stands! You will follow the order as given!”
Her final words, “I am Luna,” echoed with a finality that made both Sheila and me blink. We looked at each other, the silly argument forgotten. This was serious.
Aunt Everly stared at my mother for a long, seething moment, then threw her hands up in frustration and turned away, marching off in the opposite direction.
My mother watched her go, her posture never relaxing. Then her gaze swept across the training ground and landed on us. Sheila immediately ducked her head and put on a burst of speed, pretending to be utterly consumed by her punishment laps, shooting me a wide-eyed look of ‘we saw nothing.’
I stood there, feeling exposed. My mother’s icy stare held me for a second longer before she, too, turned and walked briskly back toward the packhouse.
The strange, public argument left a bad taste in my mouth. Things between them had been strained for years, but they rarely clashed so openly. I pulled out my phone, wanting a distraction from the uncomfortable tension still hanging in the air.
A new message notification glowed on the screen. It wasn’t from Mandy. The sender’s name made my blood run cold.
Logan.
My lips parted. I opened it, reading the words in a horrified mutter.
\[You’re pushing me to my limit, Arielle. And it’s going to be hellish.\]
It was a message from Logan. The fucking nerve of him. A cold fury, cleaner than hurt, washed through me.
How dare he?
After everything, after my warning, he was still trying to slither his way back in with threats and guilt trips. I’d been so rattled after our last call that I’d completely forgotten to re-block his number. My fingers flew across the screen now—block contact, confirm, delete message. The digital severing felt good. Final.
When I looked up, Sheila was slowing her jog, her eyes on me with a hideous concern. She knew me too well. She could read the shift in my posture, the tight set of my jaw, from fifty yards away. She mouthed, ‘What?’ Our strange friendship bond often worked like that, a silent signal system for moments of crisis.
I mouthed back, ‘Nothing.’ But it wasn’t convincing.
She frowned, her concern deepening, but she didn’t press. She just gave me a long look before picking up her pace again, her ponytail swishing as she resumed her punishment laps, leaving me alone with my churning thoughts.
\---
Later that night, after the strange tension of the day had settled into the quiet of the house, I went to see my father. The soft hum of the medical equipment and the gentle scent of him were a balm.
I sank into the familiar chair by his bed and took his warm, unresponsive hand in mine. “Hey, Dad,” I whispered into the dim light of the bedside lamp. “It’s me again. Your troublesome princess.” I let out a shaky breath. “I just… needed to be here. Everything feels so loud out there.”
I started to ramble, the words tumbling out in a low, confessional stream. I told him about college preparations, about the apartment in Dead Moon, about the weird, intimidating Alpha who was letting me stay. I told him about the constant, low-grade fear of my mother finding out about Logan, and the heavier, sharper guilt that followed.
“I’ve been lying so much lately, Dad,” I murmured, my thumb tracing the lines on his palm. “To her. Not big lies, but… omissions. Half-truths. Secrets. I can’t help it. It feels like the only way to breathe, to have anything that’s just mine. But it also feels like I’m building a wall between us, brick by brick, and I don’t know how to stop.” My voice cracked. “I wish you were here. You’d know what to do. You always did.”
I sat there in the comforting silence, just holding his hand, pouring out my nervousness about the future, my dread of living under Aeson’s watchful eye, my hope that maybe, in college, I could finally find a place where I fit and above all become the best version of myself and awaken my wolf.
I was in the middle of a whispered sentence about the upcoming orientation when my phone rang, the cheerful trill shockingly loud in the sacred quiet. I jumped, my heart leaping to my throat. I glanced at the screen.
It was Mandy. Past 10 PM. I guessed she was calling to give me a reminder about the orientation tomorrow, like I was some forgetful old patient who needed to be reminded of her prescription.
I answered immediately, keeping my voice to a hushed whisper so as not to disturb the peace of the room. “Hey. I guess you’re calling to make sure I remember the orientation is tomorrow? I do. I’ll be there.”
“I’m not attending,” she cut in, her voice bright.
“What?”
“I’ll be going back to my maternal pack tomorrow afternoon to get some of the stuff I failed to bring with me the first time. And my parents want to have a proper farewell dinner since I won’t be visiting much once college starts. You know how they are.”
“Oh. Okay. That’s fine…” I said, but then the full implication of her words hit me. I paused, blinking in the lamplight. “Wait. That means you won’t be around on Friday? When I come over to see the apartment?”
“Yes,” she said, sounding genuinely apologetic. “And that means… you’ll have to see my uncle alone. And check out the apartment with him.”