Change in Fate

Change in Fate

Chapter Eighty-Four: Change in Fate

1839, England. 

The horse moved beneath Aiden in a rhythm that felt older than anything he had ever known. 

Its hooves struck the packed earth of the forest path with a steady, grounding beat, and he let himself fall into that rhythm, it made him calm in the storm in his chest. 

He sat behind Regnok, his hands resting on his thighs, his back straight. 

His eyes moved constantly….scanning the trees, the shadows, the faces of the knights around him. 

He did not fidget..did not speak unless spoken to. He watched. He listened. He learned because he had to survive here all alone. 

The forest of 1839 was nothing like the woods near the mansion. These trees had stood for centuries. 

Their branches were thicker, their shadows deeper, their roots buried in soil that had never known a car's exhaust or a city's lights. 

The air smelled of earth and moss and something wild that made his wolf stir in his chest. 

Birds called to each other in languages he didn't recognize. 

The sky above the canopy was a shade of blue he had only ever seen in old paintings.

He was in the past. Two hundred years before the mansion…before the pack and family he had ever known. Before Aldrich had ever looked at him with recognition in his eyes.

The thought should have terrified him. Instead, it settled in his chest like a stone. He would process it later. 

He would find a way back. For now, he watched and he waited and he did not let fear make him stupid.

The knights rode in formation around him, their armor catching the dappled sunlight that broke through the leaves. 

They were good soldiers…Aiden could tell from the way they moved, the way their eyes tracked the tree line, the way their hands never strayed far from their swords. 

They were also curious about him. He could feel their eyes on his back, hear their whispered questions whenever they thought he couldn't hear.

The youngest of the knights…a boy with more enthusiasm than sense…edged his horse closer to Regnok's. 

"Captain," he said, his voice carrying in the quiet forest, "the stranger has not spoken in miles. Not a single word." 

He paused, lowering his voice to what he clearly thought was a whisper. "Do you think he is... simple?"

Aiden did not react. He kept his eyes on the trees, his breathing even, his face calm.

From the front, Regnok glanced back. His expression was unreadable, but there was amusement in his voice when he spoke. 

"I think," he said dryly, "that the stranger can hear you."

The young knight's face flushed red. He opened his mouth to stammer an apology, but before he could, Aiden spoke.

"I can hear you," Aiden said calmly. His voice was low, measured. 

The voice of someone who chose his words carefully because he knew the weight they carried.

The young knight looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

Aiden let the silence stretch for a moment. Then, because the boy was young and meant no harm, he added, "It's fine."

The knight blinked. "It is?"

"You asked a question. I answered." Aiden's gaze drifted back to the trees. "That is how conversation works."

The other knights exchanged glances. One of them snorted, trying to hide a laugh.

Regnok's lips twitched. "The stranger has a point, Cedric. Perhaps next time, ask your question to his face instead of to the back of his head."

Cedric…the young knight…scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed but also curious. "So... you are not simple, then?"

"No," Aiden said simply.

"Then why do you not speak?"

Aiden considered the question. In his time, he would have deflected with a joke or changed the subject. 

But this was not his time and these were not his people. He needed to be careful and measured.

"Because," he said finally, "speaking without purpose is just noise. I prefer to listen."

The knights fell quiet. Something in his words had landed heavier than he intended.

Regnok studied him from the front, his eyes sharp. "You have the stillness of a warrior," he said. "Or a monk. Which are you?"

Aiden met his gaze. "I am just Aiden."

"Just Aiden." Regnok repeated the words slowly, tasting them. "With no memories. No past. No fear." 

He paused, and something flickered in his expression…not suspicion anymore but with curiosity and interest. "You are the most interesting 'just' I have ever met."



The forest grew darker as they rode deeper into the trees. 

The path narrowed, the canopy overhead closing in until the sunlight came through in thin, golden shafts.

Regnok raised his hand. The patrol stopped instantly. No one spoke, it was dead silent that even a crunch of leaves would be easily heard. Every soldier's hand went to their sword.

Aiden sat very still. His senses were screaming…something was wrong.

Then they came.

They exploded from the trees without warning…a pack of wolves, but not like any wolves Aiden had ever seen. 

These were rogues and feral. Their fur was matted, their eyes wild, their teeth bared in snarls that dripped with something dark and hungry. 

There were at least a dozen of them, circling the patrol, cutting off any path of escape.

The knights formed a defensive circle, swords drawn, faces grim. Regnok's horse shifted beneath him, sensing its rider's tension.

Aiden did not move. He sat perfectly still on the back of the horse, his hands still on his thighs, his breathing still even. 

He did not reach for a weapon he did not have. He did not scream or run or do any of the things fear told him to do.

He watched.

The lead rogue was massive…grey fur scarred from countless fights, one eye clouded with blindness, the other fixed on the patrol with murderous intent. 

It took a step forward, its hackles raised, a growl building in its chest that sounded like rocks grinding together.

Then it caught Aiden's scent.

The growl died. The massive wolf froze mid-step, its one good eye swinging toward Aiden. 

Its hackles, raised for attack, slowly lowered. Its body, coiled to spring, went rigid with something else entirely.

Fear.

The other rogues felt it too. One by one, they stopped their circling. Their ears flattened. Their tails tucked between their legs. 

They stared at Aiden with wide, terrified eyes, and then they began to whine…a sound Aiden had never heard from a rogue wolf. A sound of submission…a sound of worship.

The lead rogue took one step backward. Then another. Then it turned and fled into the trees.

The others followed. They scattered like leaves in a storm, crashing through the underbrush, desperate to put as much distance between themselves and Aiden as possible.

The forest fell silent.

The knights stood frozen, their swords still drawn, their faces pale.

Regnok was the first to recover. He turned slowly in his saddle, his eyes fixed on Aiden. 

His sword was still in his hand, but he did not point it at Aiden. He did not need to. The fear in his eyes was not for Aiden. It was of him.

"Rogues do not run," Regnok said. His voice was steady, but there was something new in it. Something careful. 

"They fight until they die. Unless they sense something greater than themselves. Something that terrifies them more than death."

Aiden met his gaze. He did not look away. He did not flinch. "I told you," he said quietly. "I am a werewolf from a pack."

Regnok studied him for a long, heavy moment. His eyes searched Aiden's face, his posture, the impossible stillness of him. 

"No ordinary werewolf makes feral wolves flee in terror," he said slowly. 

"No ordinary werewolf smells like this." He sheathed his sword with a deliberate slowness. 

"You are not a spy. A spy would be captured, not... worshipped."

The word hung in the air. Worshipped.

Aiden shook his head. "I am no one to worship."

"That is not what the rogues thought." Regnok turned back to the path, signaling the patrol to move forward. His voice was thoughtful now, almost wondering. 

"They looked at you like you were something sacred. Something they would rather run from than challenge." 

He glanced at Aiden over his shoulder, and in his eyes was something that had not been there before. Not suspicion. Curiosity. Respect, even. 

"I do not know what you are, Aiden with the strange name. But I will find out. And for now..." He paused. "You ride beside me. Not behind."

It was not an invitation. It was a declaration.

Aiden nodded once. He did not thank Regnok. He did not need to….some things were understood without words.



The Present 

Back at the mansion, the silence was unbearable.

Aiden floated in his glass cylinder, his body still rigid, his eyes still white. 

The golden liquid around him had calmed, but he had not. His hands pressed flat against the glass, his gaze fixed on something none of them could see. Something none of them could reach.

The team had gathered in the room, but no one spoke. There was nothing to say. Aldrich knelt beside the cylinder, his forehead pressed against the glass, his eyes closed. 

He had not moved in hours. He had not eaten. He had not slept. He just stayed there, his hand pressed against the glass, matching Aiden's hand from the inside.

Gabriella sat in the corner, River curled up beside her, his young face streaked with tears he had stopped wiping away. 

Fiona paced by the window, her arms wrapped around herself. 

Grants and Prince stood together near the door, their hands intertwined. 

Merrick leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, his jaw tight. Elliot stared at his monitors, watching the readings that made no sense, that showed Aiden's brain activity burning brighter than any human…any wolf…should be capable of.

No one knew what to do. No one knew how to help.

Then the Seer entered.

She moved slowly, her ancient feet barely making a sound on the stone floor. 

Her face was troubled…more troubled than any of them had ever seen it. 

She stopped before the cylinder, her eyes fixed on Aiden's floating form, and she was quiet for a long, long moment.

Aldrich did not look up. His voice was hoarse when he spoke. "Tell me how to bring him back. I don't care what it takes. Just tell me."

The Seer did not answer immediately. She studied Aiden's face, the white light blazing in his eyes, the stillness of his body. 

When she finally spoke, her voice was heavy. Heavy with knowledge. Heavy with things she had seen that none of them could imagine.

"It is not that simple, Alpha. His spirit is not lost. It is... placed. Somewhere else. Somewhere that is not here."

Fiona stopped pacing. "Placed WHERE? Speak plainly, Seer. We don't have time for riddles."

The Seer turned to face them all. 

Her ancient eyes swept over the room, over each of their desperate, exhausted faces, and for a moment, she looked almost sad. 

"The Moon Child has traveled backward," she said. "Through time itself. His spirit is in the year 1839."

The silence that followed was different from the silence before. This one was stunned. Disbelieving.

Merrick let out a nervous laugh, running a hand through his hair. "Okay. Okay, that's... that's crazy. That's not possible. Time travel? That's not a thing. That's something from books. From stories."

The Seer did not look away from him. Her voice was calm, patient. 

"For the Moon Child? For the one touched by the Alpha Prime? All things are possible. The spirit does not obey the same laws as the body."

Grants rubbed his temples, trying to process. "So he's... what? In the past? Just wandering around 1839? With no body?"

"His spirit has form there," the Seer said. "He walks. He breathes. He speaks. He does not know he is there for a purpose. He thinks he is lost and trapped."

Aldrich finally looked up. His face was pale, his eyes red-rimmed, but there was something else in them now. Something sharp. Something focused. "A purpose. What purpose?"

The Seer hesitated. Her gaze drifted to Aldrich, then away. She was choosing her words carefully. That alone made the room colder.

Gabriella stood, River still pressed against her side. "Seer. What aren't you telling us? What purpose could my son have in the past?"

The Seer's voice was slow, deliberate. "The Moon Goddess does not act without reason. She does not send her chosen one through time for sport. 

He is there for a reason. A reason tied to..." She looked directly at Aldrich. "To you, Alpha."

Aldrich's jaw tightened. His hand pressed harder against the glass. "I was there. In 1839."

"You were," the Seer said. "A king. A kingdom. A life before this one."

Elliot stepped forward, his scientist brain finally breaking through his fear. "Wait. Wait, wait, wait. If Aiden is in the past... and he changes something... something that hasn't happened yet in our timeline..."

The Seer nodded gravely. "Then the future changes. Everything changes."

Fiona's voice was sharp. "What does that mean? Like... he could erase us? Erase this timeline?"

"If he alters a pivotal moment," the Seer said, "the thread of fate rewrites itself. The Aldrich we know may cease to exist as he is. The child may never be conceived. The pack may never form. Everything you know, everyone you love..." 

She trailed off, letting the weight of her words settle over them like a shroud.

Prince's voice was small. "So we just... let him wander around back there? Doing whatever? Without knowing what he's supposed to do?"

"No." The Seer's voice was firm now. "I can anchor him. Create a tether between his spirit and his body. It will not bring him back, but it will remind him that he has a home to return to. A reason to be careful with the choices he makes. It will pull at him when he strays too far from his purpose."

Aldrich stood. His legs were unsteady, but he did not waver. "Do it," he said. His voice was steel. 

"Anchor him. And then..." He looked at the Seer, and for the first time, there was something vulnerable in his eyes. Something old and wounded. 

"Tell me about 1839. Tell me about the kingdom. Tell me about..." He stopped.

The Seer finished for him. "About Liora."

Aldrich's face tightened. He did not answer. He did not need to.

The Seer's voice softened. "Very well, Alpha. But what I tell you may break you as surely as losing him. The past is not always a place we want to revisit."

She turned back to the cylinder. Her hands rose, palms facing Aiden's floating form. 

Light began to gather between her fingers…not bright like Aiden's fire, but soft, silver, ancient. 

It pulsed like a heartbeat. Like a thread being spun from nothing.

"The tether will be thin," she said, her voice echoing now. "But it will hold. It will remind him of who he is. Of what he carries. Of what waits for him."

The silver light shot from her hands, piercing the glass as if it were not there at all. 

It wrapped around Aiden's chest, around his heart, and for a moment, his body jerked. 

His white eyes flickered. His lips moved, forming words none of them could hear.

Then the light settled. A thin, silver thread connected his chest to the cylinder, to the machine, to the room itself. It pulsed softly..

The Seer lowered her hands. Her face was pale, her breathing heavier than before. 

"It is done," she said. "He will feel it now. The pull home."

Aldrich pressed his forehead against the glass again. "Hold on," he whispered. "Just hold on. I'm coming for you."



Hours later, the estate came into view. It was not a castle…Aiden had expected something grander….but it was solid, built of grey stone that had stood for generations. 

Torches flickered at the gates, and servants moved in the courtyard, their voices low and hurried.

Regnok gave Aiden a room. Small, but comfortable. 

A bed with clean sheets. A window that looked out onto the forest. 

A guard posted outside the door…not to keep Aiden in, he realized, but to keep others out. To keep him safe.

Regnok left him with food and water and a warning to rest. "The King will want to see you," he said from the doorway. "Tomorrow. Be ready."

Then he was gone.

Aiden sat on the edge of the bed. He did not lie down. He did not eat. 

He closed his eyes and let his breathing slow, let his mind settle, let the chaos of the day fade into the background.

He was in 1839. Two hundred years before his time. His body was back in the mansion, floating in a glass cylinder, while his spirit walked in a world that should not exist for him. He did not know how he got here. 

He did not know how to get back. He did not know why the Moon Goddess had sent him to this moment, to this place, to this man named Regnok who looked at him like he was a puzzle to be solved.

But he knew one thing. He was not alone. Somewhere in his chest, a thread pulled. 

Thin, but strong. Connecting him to something far away. Something waiting.

He held onto that thread. Let it anchor him.



It was late when the voices came.

Aiden's eyes opened. He had not been sleeping…he did not need to sleep in this form, not really…but he had been resting, letting his mind drift. The voices pulled him back.

Regnok's voice and an another deeper, commanding voice

A voice that made Aiden's heart stop.

He knew that voice. He would know it anywhere. In any time. In any life.

He rose from the bed. His movements were silent, deliberate. 

He crossed to the door and stood behind it, listening. 

He did not press his ear to the wood like a spy. He simply stood close enough to hear, his eyes closed, his breathing even.

The voices drifted through.

"The northern border is quiet," the voice said. "Too quiet. I do not trust it."

Regnok answered. "We have patrols out every night, my King. If they move, we will know. The rogues have been restless, but nothing more."

The voice paused. "I heard your patrol was attacked. The rogues fled."

"They did," Regnok said. "Before we could draw steel."

"Before you drew steel?" The voice was intrigued now. "What made them run?"

A longer pause. Aiden could picture Regnok choosing his words carefully. 

"A stranger. Found wandering the woods. His scent is like nothing I have encountered. Sometimes I catch two scents on him like he carries... another life with him. Something old. Something powerful."

The voice was amused now. "A mysterious stranger who scares off rogues and carries two scents? You are collecting interesting things, Regnok."

"I am holding him for observation," Regnok said. "He may be a danger."

"Or he may be exactly what we need." The voice was softer now, more personal. 

"The times are changing, my friend. I feel it in my bones. The rogues sense something we cannot see. Perhaps this stranger is part of it."

Aiden's hands were still at his sides. His breathing was even. But his heart was not.

The voice spoke again. "But enough of politics. I came to tell you myself. I am getting married."

Regnok's voice was sharp. "Married? To whom?"

"Liora. Daughter of the northern chieftain. It will unite our lands. End the fighting."

A pause. Then Regnok, quieter now: "You cannot be serious."

The voice was firm. "I am. She is the price of peace, Regnok. I have made my choice."

Aiden closed his eyes. Liora. The name meant nothing to him. But the weight in Aldrich's voice…because it was Aldrich, he knew it was Aldrich…that weight he understood. 

That was the weight of duty…sacrifice of doing what you must, even when it cost you everything.

He opened the door.

The room fell silent.

Aiden stood in the doorway. He did not rush. He did not stumble. He did not apologize for interrupting. 

He simply stood there, calm and still, his eyes fixed on the man he had loved across lifetimes.

Aldrich.

Younger, yes. Crown on his head, a king's weight on his shoulders, a weariness in his eyes that Aiden recognized from a future that had not yet happened but unmistakably him. 

The same sharp jaw. The same powerful presence. The same eyes that, in another time, in another life, had looked at Aiden with nothing but love.

But these eyes... these eyes did not know him.

Aldrich tilted his head, studying Aiden with open curiosity. His gaze swept over Aiden's face, his strange clothes, the impossible stillness of his posture. 

"I have not seen this face before," he said slowly. Then his lips curved into a teasing smile. "You did not tell me your mysterious stranger was so... striking."

Regnok stepped forward, placing himself slightly between Aiden and the King. "He is under my custody, my King. Until I determine he is not a threat."

Aldrich's smile widened. He looked between them, clearly entertained. "Under your custody, Regnok? Or under your protection?" He raised an eyebrow. "I did not know you kept lovers hidden away. I would have visited more often."

Regnok's jaw tightened. "He is not my…"

Aiden did not hear the rest. His world had narrowed to the man in front of him. The man who did not know him. Who had never seen his face. Who was about to marry someone else.

Aldrich stepped closer. Something drew him forward…something he could not explain, something that made his wolf stir in his chest. 

His expression shifted from amusement to something deeper... searching.

"You look at me as though you know me," Aldrich said softly. "Have we met before? I do not forget faces. Especially not faces like yours."

Aiden held his gaze. Did not look away. Did not flinch. 

When he spoke, his voice was calm, measured. But there was something in it that made the air in the room change.

"No," he said. "We have never met."

Aldrich's eyes narrowed. His wolf senses were sharp. He could smell the lie. "You lie poorly, stranger."

Aiden said nothing. He simply looked at Aldrich. And in his eyes, there was a century of things he could not say.

Aldrich's brow furrowed. Something stirred in his chest. 

Something he did not understand. Something that felt like... recognition. But that was impossible. 

He had never seen this man before. Had never heard his voice. Had never felt his gaze on his skin like a brand.

And yet.

"What is your name?" Aldrich asked.

"Aiden."

"Aiden." Aldrich tasted the name on his tongue. It felt familiar. It felt like coming home. He did not know why. "Aiden what?"

"Just Aiden."

Aldrich studied him for a long, heavy moment. The silence stretched between them, thick with something neither of them could name.

Then Aldrich smiled. It was a small smile, almost sad. "Just Aiden," he repeated. 

"Who looks at me like he knows me. Who scares rogues with nothing but his presence. Who carries two scents on his skin, as if he holds another life inside him." 

He stepped closer, and his voice dropped. "You are a mystery, Just Aiden. And I have never been able to leave a mystery unsolved."

Aiden's heart ached. He wanted to reach out. To touch Aldrich's face, to tell him everything, to make him remember a future that had not yet happened.

But he did not. He could not.

So he stood there, still and silent, while the man he loved looked at him like he was a stranger.

And somewhere in the future, in a mansion that did not yet exist, Aldrich's hand pressed harder against Aiden's glass cylinder. 

His heart pounded for reasons he could not explain. A thread pulled in his chest. Something old. Something lost…something waiting to be found.