Chapter 25 Aiden's Confession (Sort Of)
Malia's POV
I’m half asleep when I hear the door open.
My nightstand clock says 2:47 in the morning.
Aiden stumbles in—and I know instantly that something’s wrong.
He’s walking silently, as if the ground were going to give away beneath him. His normally straight posture is bent over, and he’s stumbling. I slowly start to sit up as he closes the door and leans against it with his eyes closed.
“Aiden?” I whisper.
He doesn’t respond. Just stands there, breathing heavily with his hand on his head.
“Are you okay?”
He laughs, a bitter, crippled sound that makes my heart ache.
"Okay," he says, as if it were an alien word to him. "Yeah. Perfectly okay."
But he’s not.
Now I can smell it—alcohol. Sharp and clear.
Aiden Moonfall is drunk. I have never seen him anything other than perfectly in control, so this is… jarring.
“Do you need water?” I inquire as I get up.
“Don’t.” His voice halts mine. “Just — don’t,” he says softly.
He pushes away from the door and goes to his bed, plunging down without reading himself. For a second he just sits, leaning forward with his elbows rested in his knees and his head in his hands.
I should go back to sleep. Mind my own business. Let him have his private moment of weakness.
But I can't sleep because the defeated droop of his shoulders says something else.
“Did something happen?” I ask softly.
"Council meeting." His words are a bit slurred. "Emergency session on the politics of the pack and succession and lineages and alliances and all that other crap that doesn't really matter but everyone acts as if it's life or death."
He raises his head and even in the low light I see tired in his eyes.
"My father wants me to find a mate before graduation," he adds. "Politically advantageous match. Strengthen the bloodline. Fortify our position." He laughs once again, that same bitter sound. "Like I’m a chess piece, not even a person."
A pang tightens in my chest. "That's not fair."
“Fair?” He turned his gaze to me, and there was something uncooked in his look. “Nothing in our world is fair, Malia. You know that better than anyone.”
He's right. But hearing him say it — that pain — makes it hurt worse.
"Is that why you were drinking?"
"Among other reasons." He rakes a hand through his hair, disheveling it. "Responsibilities. Expectations. The burden of a legacy I never asked for but can't escape."
“You could say no.”
"To what? Being a Moonfall? Being the heir?" He shakes his head. "You don’t say no. You just… pretend. Act. You become what people expect you to be until you forget who you really are."
His voice is vulnerable, which surprises me.
This isn’t Aiden Moonfall, the chilly, unreachable heir. This is just Aiden, lost and tired.
“Who are you?” I ask softly. “Under all the expectations?”
He considered me for a long moment.
“I don’t know anymore. I don’t know if there’s anything real left.”
“I don't buy that.”
“Why not have it?”
“Because I’ve seen real. When you defended me at the gathering. When you gave me that dress. When you look at me like—“ I stop, fuzzy.
“Like what?" His is quiet voice is quiet, intense despite the alcohol.
“I matter.”
“It’s not a big deal.” He is silent. Then: “You matter to much.”
He stops, jaw clenching. “It would be so much simpler if you weren't. If I could just not care. But I do care, and it’s destroying every plan I had for how my life was supposed to go.”
My breath snags. “Aiden— ”
“You don’t belong here,” he says suddenly, his voice quavering a intricate bit. “In this world of politics and bloodlines and impossible expectations. You shouldn't have to do any of this.”
The words should sting.
But he’s not cruel in his tone—he’s protective. Sad. “But neither do I,” he says, these words softer. “I don’t belong here either. In this role. This life. This cage they’ve raptured me in and labeled it destiny.”
He lies back on his bed.
“We both are captured,” he murmurs. “You by hierarchy. Me by legacy. Both of us are chained.”
I don't know what to say to that. Because he’s right. We’re prisoners of a system neither of us asked for, him and me.
“What if we didn’t have to be?” I ask.
"Didn’t need to be what?”
“Trapped. What if there was a way out?”
He laughs — softer now, almost fond.
“For people like us, Malia, there’s no escaping. The system won’t let you leave. It just . . . eats you up inside.”
His eyes are beginning to close, fatigue and alcohol pulling him down.
“Aiden,” I say.
“Mmm?”
“Why does my presence here make everything so complicated?”
He’s silent for so long that I think he’s fallen asleep.
Then very soft: “Because you make me want things I can’t have. Feel things I shouldn’t feel. Make decisions that would destroy everything my family has worked for.”
“Like what?”
But he remains silent.
His breathing evens out—is he finally asleep, the alcohol and fatigue taking him?
Again, I lie down on my side, pounding mind on ceiling. Thoughts racing.
You make me want things I can’t have.
What things? What would I give to have Aiden Moonfall and what would he have already? But I think I know.
Freedom. Choice.
A life of his own instead of handed to him.
Something about hybrid bonds, and three brothers who can't seem to stay away from me even though they should.
—-----
Morning comes too quickly.
I wake up to the sound of the shower running.
When Aiden appears, he is back to his old self—neatly groomed, expression neutral, any and all signs of vulnerability from the night before gone.
He never looks at me as he gets dressed.
He doesn't acknowledge a thing that happened.
"Great day to wake up," I say.
"Morning." He says, his voice curt, businesslike.
Once again stranger mode on.
I sit up, hoisting my blanket around me. “About last night—”
“Nothin’ to talk about.”
“Aiden, you were drunk. You said things—”
“There are many things I say when I’m drunk. That doesn’t mean they matter!” He grabs his bag, still not looking at me. “I’ve got training in the morning. I’ll be out half, most of the day.”
“You are not seriously going to pretend—”
“Yes.” At Last he looks at me, and his walls are tightly entrenched once more. “I am. Since whatever I said last night was a mistake. What a Weakness. Forget it."
I can't just erase that memory “I can't just forget—"
"Try."
Then he's gone, the door clicking shut decisively.
I sat frustrated, confused. Last night I saw Aiden.
Real, vulnerable, honest Aiden.
And this morning? He’s buried that person so deep I wonder if I imagined it.
But I didn't. I heard the pain in his voice.
Read the tiredness in his eyes. He is teetering under the weight of everything they provide.
You do not belong here... and neither do I.
The words are banging around in my head all morning.
Because maybe Aiden's right.
Perhaps we are both out of place in this realm of inflexible hierarchies and unrealistic demands.
But perhaps that’s why we are so alike, and so the same wave of feeling runs through us both.
Two people who were at a loss for words.
Two wolves caught between what they are and what even their people expect them to be.
—-----
At breakfast, July can tell right away that I am distracted.
"Okay, spill. What happened?"
"Nothing."
"That's a lie. You've got your 'Aiden Moonfall confused me again' face."
And yet I still smile. “Is that a face I make frequently?”
“Constantly.” She steals a piece of my toast. "So what did he do this time?"
I think about telling her about last night.
But something holds me back. It felt private.
Like Aiden had said something he wouldn’t want going public.
“Just typical Aiden stuff,” I say instead. “Being cryptic and frustrating.”
July sighs “That boy needs therapy. Lots of therapy.”
“A good chunk of this school does.”
“Fair point .”
Freddy joins us, looking excited. "Okay, so I did more digging on those disappearances—"
“Not here,” July hisses, glancing around.
He lowers his voice. "Right. Sorry. But we should meet later. I've found something important."
My stomach knots. “How important?”
"Important enough that I think we need to tell someone. Someone with actual authority who might actually help."
“Who?” I ask.
“That's the question. ” He looks around nervously. “Because I don’t know who to trust anymore.”
None of us do.
And that’s the scariest part.
—----
That evening I’m in the library when my phone vibrates.
A message from an unfamiliar number:
Unknown: Stop poking your nose into matters that are not your business. Final warning.
My blood turned to ice. He knows we're looking.
He knows we're hot on a trail.
I take a screenshot of the text and send it to July and Freddy. Then, after poring, I send it to the three brothers of Moonfall.
Well, I think that if someone is threatening me, they need to know.
Aiden's response is first:
Aiden: Where are you?
Me: Library. Fourth Floor Study room.
Aiden: Hold on. Don't move. I’m for a run.
Ten minutes and not one but three of them arrived. Together, looking like an avenging army.
And even in the terror and the threats and all that stuff. I feel safer than I have in days.
Because maybe I'm not alone in this.
Maybe I never was.