Chapter 13 AFTERMATH
Victory did not feel the way Aria imagined it would.
Night Ridge returned home to cheers, but the celebration was quieter than usual. Too many warriors walked with bandaged limbs. Too many families waited at the gates with anxious eyes. The scent of blood clung to armor long after it had dried.
From the balcony of the pack house, Aria watched as the injured were led toward the infirmary. Damien stood beside her, freshly cleaned and stitched, though the wound at his side would take days to fully close.
“We won,” she said softly.
“Yes.”
“But it doesn’t feel finished.”
“It isn’t.”
He rested his forearms on the railing. “Victor was ambitious, but he wasn’t strategic enough to unite rogues on his own. Someone pushed him.”
Aria turned. “You think the southern gathering is connected?”
“I don’t believe in coincidences.”
The wind shifted, carrying the faint scent of rain.
Behind them, footsteps approached. Kael entered without ceremony, looking far too relaxed for someone who had ridden half the night.
“You both look dramatic,” he said dryly.
“We’re discussing war,” Damien replied.
“Again?” Kael sighed. “Can we try discussing peace at least once?”
Aria smiled faintly. “Did you hear about the rogues?”
“I did.” Kael’s expression lost its humor. “Scouts say they’re not attacking. Just gathering. Watching.”
“That’s worse,” Damien said.
“It could be curiosity,” Kael countered.
“It could be preparation,” Aria added.
Silence settled.
Finally, Kael shrugged. “Then we watch them back.”
Later that evening, the council gathered in the great hall. Torches lined the walls, their flames casting long shadows across the carved stone.
Elder Marcus stood before them. “The southern rogues have camped near the Ashwood border. No aggressive movements yet.”
“Send a warning,” one elder suggested.
“Or a message of alliance,” Aria said.
Several heads turned.
Damien didn’t interrupt.
“They’re rogues,” another council member argued. “They don’t follow laws.”
“They don’t follow pack laws,” Aria corrected. “That doesn’t mean they don’t follow a leader.”
Marcus folded his hands. “You believe there is one?”
“I believe no large group gathers without purpose.”
Damien finally spoke. “If there is a leader, we find out who it is.”
“And then?” Marcus asked.
“Then we decide whether they become enemies,” Damien said calmly, “or allies.”
The idea lingered in the air.
Night Ridge had always ruled through strength. Alliance with rogues was unheard of.
But so was a human Luna.
Marcus inclined his head. “We will send scouts. Quietly.”
The council dispersed.
As Aria rose, a sudden wave of dizziness hit her. She steadied herself on the edge of the table.
Damien noticed instantly. “Aria.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted.
“You’re pale.”
“It’s been a long day.”
He didn’t look convinced. Without asking, he guided her out of the hall and toward their chambers.
Once alone, she sank onto the bed.
“Don’t hover,” she muttered when he refused to step away.
“I will always hover.”
She rolled her eyes, but her hand drifted again to her stomach.
His gaze followed the movement, softening.
“Maybe,” she admitted quietly, “I’m more tired than I thought.”
He knelt in front of her, hands resting lightly on her knees. “You fought in a war.”
“I threw one spear.”
“You threw it at an Alpha.”
A small smile touched her lips.
His expression turned serious. “No more battles.”
She hesitated.
“Aria.”
She sighed. “Fine. For now.”
“For months,” he corrected.
Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t push your luck.”
He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to her stomach gently, a rare, unguarded gesture.
“Our child will not grow up in chaos,” he murmured. “I won’t allow it.”
She brushed her fingers through his dark hair. “Then we build something stronger than fear.”
Across the territory, in the western manor, Elena stood by a window overlooking the forest while Kael reviewed a map on the desk.
“You’re worried,” she said.
“I’m thinking.”
“That’s worse.”
He glanced up at her. “If rogues are organizing, it changes the power balance.”
Elena crossed her arms. “Or it changes the future.”
Kael arched a brow. “That sounds hopeful.”
“It is.” She turned to face him fully. “What if they’re not gathering for war? What if they’re tired of being hunted and pushed into shadows?”
“You want to welcome them?”
“I want to understand them.”
Kael studied her thoughtfully. “You’d make a dangerous diplomat.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“It’s a warning.”
She stepped closer. “Then come with me.”
“To meet rogues?” He looked amused. “You do realize they might kill us.”
“They might not.”
“And if they do?”
She tilted her head. “At least we’ll die doing something brave.”
He laughed under his breath. “You are far too comfortable with risk.”
“And you’re far too comfortable with violence.”
Their eyes held, tension simmering—not hostile, but charged.
Kael reached for her hand slowly. “If we go, we go prepared.”
A small smile curved her lips. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Days passed.
Night Ridge rebuilt. Funeral pyres burned for the fallen. New warriors trained harder than before. The pack felt different—stronger, but watchful.
Then the scouts returned.
Damien stood in the courtyard as the lead scout knelt before him.
“My Alpha,” the scout said, breathless from the ride. “The rogues have a leader.”
“Name,” Damien demanded.
The scout hesitated only a second.
“Selene.”
The name meant nothing to Aria.
But the reaction around her did.
Kael, who had arrived that morning, went completely still.
Damien’s eyes darkened.
“You’re certain?” Damien asked.
“Yes, my Alpha. She commands them openly. And she’s asking for a meeting.”
Aria’s pulse quickened. “With who?”
The scout looked directly at Damien.
“With you. And the Luna.”
Silence fell over the courtyard.
A rogue leader requesting a formal meeting was unheard of.
Kael exhaled slowly. “Well,” he muttered, “this just got interesting.”
Damien’s jaw flexed as he considered the implications.
Aria stepped closer to him. “If she wanted war, she wouldn’t ask for a meeting.”
“Or,” Kael countered, “she’s very confident.”
Damien looked at Aria.
This wasn’t just political.
This was a challenge.
A test.
Finally, he spoke.
“Send word. We accept.”
The scout bowed and rushed off.
Aria met Damien’s gaze. “Do you know her?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
Not the answer she expected.
“From where?” she pressed.
His voice turned colder. “From before you.”
Something tightened in her chest.
Kael muttered under his breath, “This should be fun.”
Aria ignored him.
“When is the meeting?” she asked.
“Three days,” Damien replied.
Three days until they faced a rogue leader who already knew her mate.
Three days until Night Ridge discovered whether peace was possible.
Or if a new war was already forming.