Chapter 34

Aria

The journal lay open across my lap, worn leather soft beneath my fingers. I’d lost count of how many times I’d read the same passage, the ink beginning to fade in places where my tears had once fallen. It was so hard to reconcile my feelings for someone who died for me. Someone who loved me before I was even born. My heart ached for my mother, who, with her last breath, protected me.

"If she is born into darkness, may she never forget that she is light. If they take everything from her, may she remember she was always more than what they could steal. My daughter will not be a victim of this world—she will be its reckoning."

I traced the words slowly, mouthing them to myself as though they were a spell. Maybe they were. They felt powerful.

The late morning sun filtered through the broken stone archways of what had once been the Nightshade stronghold. The walls were skeletal but no longer lifeless. Vines threaded through the cracks. New grass had burst forth from old stone. The ruins no longer felt like a graveyard—they felt like a seed, freshly planted, like a new beginning. It was a way to keep the memories of my legacy alive while we worked to rebuild, while we fought for a better world.

I sat beneath what used to be the grand window of the estate’s main chamber. It overlooked the land that had once been our seat of power—and what would be again. The crest on my shoulder pulsed gently beneath my tunic, like a heartbeat reminding me who I was.

The journal rested beside a stack of hand-drawn maps, sketches of the land, notes taken during our journey here. Plans. Visions. Possibilities. There was so much potential, so much hope.

I wasn’t alone for long.

Ronan was the first to join me, quiet as always, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon before settling into a makeshift seat nearby. Then came Sera, her long cloak brushing the newly grown moss as she took a seat beside me. Corren, Talon, and Amy followed, each bringing something with them—a satchel of parchment, fresh-brewed tea, or quiet encouragement.

I looked around at them. My people. My inner circle. My strength.

"We need to begin," I said. "Not just with dreams, but with actions. Rebuilding isn’t just stone and timber—it’s life. Legacy. We need to bring this place back from the ashes."

Amy nodded. "We’ve begun sorting through the supplies. There’s a clearing on the south side of the estate ruins—good soil, near the stream. We can begin farming there. I’ve already asked for volunteers to start mapping out garden plots and marking trees for timber."

"We can leave some of the Hollowfang to guard and continue working while others accompany you to the summit," Ronan said. "That way we keep progress steady."

"I’ll stay," Amy offered. "This place is starting to respond. The land needs careful hands."

I nodded, grateful. Then glanced at Talon.

"How’s morale?"

He smiled faintly. "The people believe in you, Aria. More arrive every day. But the summit... there’s tension. Questions. They’re scared. Not of you, but of what the other alphas might do. They are scared for you."

"The court won’t take kindly to my arrival," I said. "If we send word ahead, they’ll prepare for my arrival. Control the narrative. If we show up unannounced..."

"You control the moment," Corren said.

Sera folded her hands, speaking softly. "The old ways favour the bold. But this isn’t just a statement of power. It’s a return. A reckoning. You must be ready not just for what you hope to say, but for what they will try to deny. What they will try to stop."

I looked down at the journal again, at my mother’s words. They burned brighter today. I felt them deep within my soul. I needed to get this right.

"I’ve thought about a council," I admitted. "Not to rule for me, but with me. The people need to feel they have a voice. I want to rebuild trust as much as I rebuild walls. And I don't want positions awarded by station or wealth. I want them to be earned."

Ronan nodded. "It would send a strong message. That this isn’t just a restoration of the Nightshade line, but a new kind of leadership. Not just a single being but a kingdom in its own."

I continued, "I will select the initial council so we can work on rebuilding. But I think I would like to have our people involved somehow in the future. Maybe as the kingdom grows and the need for the council to as well, we could allow people to apply for the position or allow people to be nominated."

Everyone was quiet. Power wasn't something most willingly gave away, and I was suggesting sharing it with everyone. I wanted my people to feel like they mattered, like they truly had a voice.

Sera smiled, a smile so big it took up most of her face. "I knew you would be different." She spoke so softly, a warm glow in her eyes.

The wind picked up, carrying the scent of pine and something sweeter—new life growing in the ruins.

I let myself imagine it: buildings restored, fires lit in hearths, children laughing in courtyards. A throne not built for conquest, but for justice.

But was I ready?

My hand settled on the journal.

Yes.

Maybe not perfectly.

But with every piece of stone and memory I put back into place, I was becoming the leader I was meant to be.

"Then we begin," I said. "We send no word. We show up as truth. Let the court see what’s been reborn."

Sera smiled faintly. "So it begins, moon-touched. The world won’t be ready."

I stood, the sun at my back, the ruins breathing around me.

Let them try to deny me.

Because I carry not just a name, or a bloodline.

I carry a promise.

And I will not be forgotten.