Chapter 135 Quiet Healing
Author's POV
The suite was quiet by the time Malia and Aiden retreated to his room.
Rowan had disappeared into his own space, giving them privacy. Cian was still in the living room, organizing the research documents with methodical precision—his way of processing the weight of everything they'd revealed.
Aiden's room was dark except for the soft glow of a desk lamp in the corner. The bed was unmade, sheets rumpled from earlier when he'd collapsed there after the confrontation with McLunar . He'd been exhausted then. Now he felt something different—protective, determined, and deeply relieved that she was here, that she'd come back with Rowan instead of running.
Malia stood in the middle of the room, looking small and lost in a way that made his chest ache. Her eyes were still red from crying, face pale with exhaustion.
"Here." He pulled out one of his t-shirts from the drawer—soft, worn, the navy blue one she'd borrowed before. "Change into this. Get comfortable."
She took it wordlessly and disappeared into his bathroom.
When she emerged a few minutes later, she was wearing just his shirt and her underwear. The shirt hung to mid-thigh on her smaller frame, the neckline slipping off one shoulder. Her hair was down, messy from crying and the wind outside. She looked vulnerable. Beautiful. His.
"Come here," he said softly, already lying on the bed, propped against the headboard.
She hesitated only a second before climbing onto the bed. Curling into his side immediately, fitting against him like she was made to be there. Her head on his chest, one leg hooking over his, seeking as much contact as possible.
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. Pressed a kiss to the top of her head—soft, lingering, full of everything he couldn't quite put into words.
"Your chest," she murmured against him. "The wounds. Am I hurting—"
"All healed." He ran his hand down her back in slow, soothing strokes. "Alpha genetics. Couple more days and there won't even be scars."
She was quiet for a moment. Then: "I'm sorry. For hurting you. For—"
"Stop." He tightened his arms around her. "We've been over this. It wasn't your fault. You weren't in control."
"But I still—"
"Malia." He tilted her face up with gentle fingers under her chin, making her meet his eyes. "You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing. Do you understand me?"
She stared at him for a long moment. Then nodded slightly. "Okay."
"Good." He kissed her forehead. Let her settle back against his chest.
They lay like that in comfortable silence, his hand continuing those slow strokes down her back, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his stomach through his shirt.
"Today was—" she started. Stopped. "Today was a lot."
"That's an understatement." He felt her small huff of laughter against him. "Finding out you're expelled, then finding out you're not expelled, then finding out you're the heir to a legendary bloodline. Yeah, I'd say that qualifies as 'a lot.'"
"I don't know how to process it." Her voice was small. "Any of it. The expulsion reversal feels like—like it's too good to be true. Like someone's going to realize it was a mistake and take it back."
"They won't." His voice was firm. "McLunar signed the revocation. Lydia confessed to everything. It's done. You're staying."
"Because you threatened to sue the school."
"Because it was the right thing to do." He corrected gently. "The threat just helped them see that faster."
She was quiet for a moment. "Thank you. For fighting for me. I know I didn't say it earlier but—thank you. For threatening everything to keep me here."
"I meant what I said to McLunar ." He pressed another kiss to her hair. "For you? I'd burn this whole place down. Without hesitation."
"That's—" She stopped. "That's kind of insane."
"Probably." He smiled against her hair. "But that's what you do to me. Make me willing to do insane things."
Her hand splayed flat against his stomach. Warm through the fabric. "The Mooncrest thing—"
"We don't have to talk about that tonight if you don't want to."
"I do want to." She shifted slightly, angling to see his face. "I just—I don't know where to start. It's so much. Too much."
"Start anywhere." He brushed a strand of hair from her face. "We've got all night."
She took a shaky breath. "My whole life I've been—less. You know? Less than purebloods. Less powerful. Less wanted. Less everything. And now you're telling me I'm actually—" She stopped. "It doesn't make sense. If I'm really Aurora Mooncrest's daughter, why was my life like that? Why did she leave me with nothing?"
"I don't know." He was honest. "Maybe she thought she was protecting you. Maybe she didn't have a choice. Maybe—" He paused. "Maybe we'll never know the full truth. She's gone. Has been for a long time."
"So I just—what? Accept that I'm this legendary heir and move on?"
"You accept that your bloodline is more complicated than you thought," he said carefully. "But you're still you. Still Malia. The bloodline doesn't change who you are. It just explains some of what you can do."
"What I can do is terrifying." Her voice dropped. "I threw Victoria into a wall. I slashed you across the chest. I lost complete control at the preserve. That's not—I don't want that kind of power."
"Power isn't inherently good or bad." He kept his voice steady. Calm. "It's what you do with it. And yes, you've lost control. But Malia—you've been manifesting abilities you didn't understand, dealing with forces way beyond your experience. Given all that, you've shown incredible restraint."
"I put you in the hospital."
"You saved yourself from a forced transformation in an environment designed to amplify everything." He corrected. "There's a difference."
She was quiet, processing. Her fingers resumed their absent patterns on his stomach.
"I'm scared," she finally admitted. "Of what this means. Of what people will do when they find out. Of—" Her voice cracked slightly. "Of losing control again and hurting someone I actually care about."
"Then we train." Simple. Practical. "We work with your abilities instead of fighting them. We find people who understand Mooncrest bloodline powers—if any still exist—and we learn. Together."
"You make it sound so simple."
"It's not simple. It's going to be hard and complicated and probably dangerous." He tightened his arms around her. "But you're not doing it alone. That's the point. You have pack now. You have people who will stand with you no matter what."
"Even if I'm—" She stopped. "Even if being with me paints a target on your back too?"
"Especially then." He tilted her face up again, making sure she saw the certainty in his eyes. "Malia, I don't care about the complications. I don't care about the danger. I care about you. Just you. Bloodline, powers, all of it—that's just details. You're what matters."
Tears welled in her eyes. "How are you so—" She couldn't finish.
"So what?"
"Good to me. After everything I've put you through. After the misunderstanding you had with Cian, after attacking you, after—"
"After being human?" He cut her off gently. "After making mistakes like everyone makes? After dealing with impossible situations in imperfect ways? Malia, I'm not keeping score. I'm not tallying up your mistakes against your worth. I'm just—" He paused. "I'm just loving you. All of you. Even the messy, complicated parts. Especially those parts."
A sob broke from her throat. She buried her face in his chest, shoulders shaking.
He held her through it. Steady. Constant. One hand in her hair, the other rubbing slow circles on her back.
"I love you too," she finally managed between sobs. "So much. Even when I was pushing everyone away, even when I was drowning—I never stopped loving you."
"I know." He pressed his cheek to the top of her head. "The bond told me. Even when we weren't talking, even when everything was broken—I felt you. Felt how much you were hurting. How scared you were."
"I'm still scared."
"That's okay. Being scared doesn't mean you're weak. It means you're smart enough to understand the stakes." He pulled back just enough to see her face. "But you don't have to be scared alone anymore."
She looked at him with those eyes—brown threaded with gold now that she'd stopped crying, evidence of the bloodline awakening inside her—and nodded.
"Okay," she whispered. "Okay. Not alone."
"Not alone," he confirmed.
She settled back against him, exhaustion finally catching up. Her body relaxing incrementally, tension draining away as sleep started to pull at her.
"Aiden?" Her voice was drowsy now.
"Mm?"
"What happens tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow we deal with Lydia's disciplinary hearing. Tomorrow we start figuring out next steps. Tomorrow we—" He paused. "Tomorrow we keep going. One day at a time."
"Together?"
"Always together."
She made a small sound of contentment. Her breathing evening out. Sleep finally taking her somewhere the fear and confusion couldn't reach.
Aiden held her, watching the way the lamplight caught in her hair, the way her face smoothed out in sleep, the way she looked—finally—peaceful.
His girl. His Malia.
Mooncrest heir or not, powerful bloodline or not, complicated destiny or not—
She was his. And he was hers.
And tomorrow they'd face whatever came next.
But tonight, in this moment, with her warm and safe in his arms, everything was exactly as it should be.
He pressed one more kiss to her forehead.
"I've got you," he murmured, even though she was already asleep. "Always. No matter what comes. I've got you."
And he meant it.