Chapter Six

Carden’s P.O.V

The council chamber fell into a stunned silence. Every head turned as the heavy doors swung open, and Aria walked in with Warren at her side. But it wasn’t just her arrival that shocked everyone—it was the way she moved, with a powerful, graceful stride that spoke of strength and authority. No limp, no sign of weakness. She wasn't the crippled, fragile Luna I had known; she was something entirely different—something far stronger.

I felt the world blur around me, my heart pounding in my chest as if it were trying to escape. The whispers started almost instantly, rippling through the chamber, too quiet to discern but loud enough to drown out the speaker’s words at the head of the room.

"She was never crippled..."

"That's Aria? She's the Luna of SilverMoon now?"

"No one said she could walk like that..."

The murmurs tugged at my focus, amplifying the disbelief echoing in my own mind. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her as she moved forward. Warren walked beside her, his expression one of confident calm, his hand resting lightly on her back as if to silently convey his support. My gut twisted painfully at the sight.

She didn't look at me. Not once. Her eyes moved over the room, scanning the gathered Alphas, Betas, and council members, but they passed right over me like I was nothing—like I didn’t even exist. When Warren pulled out a chair for her, she gave him a small nod of acknowledgment before sitting down with an elegance that made the other Alphas take notice. She was confident, poised, and unbroken.

How was this possible?

The Aria I remembered had been vulnerable. Weak. Someone who I had convinced myself could never lead a pack like mine, much less stand beside me as my equal. And yet here she was, every bit the Luna I had once dreamed of—only, she wasn’t mine anymore. She wasn’t even a part of my world.

A tap on the table snapped me out of my reverie, and I turned sharply to face the council elder who was speaking. His eyes were narrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Alpha Carden, is NightCrest in agreement on the territorial alliance with SilverMoon?”

For a moment, I couldn't even find my voice. Territorial alliance? My gaze flickered back to Aria, who was now leaning back in her chair, her eyes focused on the elder, ignoring me entirely. SilverMoon Pack had always been somewhat of a mystery to NightCrest—powerful, yet they kept to themselves. And now she led them.

I cleared my throat, trying to keep my voice steady. “NightCrest... will consider it,” I said, my words dragging, as if even they were reluctant to leave my lips.

The elder gave me a displeased look, but I barely noticed. All I could think about was her. Aria. Every second that I had spent convincing myself that I was better off without her, that rejecting her had been the right decision—every second was now collapsing around me, shattered by the simple fact of her presence in this room.

She was alive, she was thriving, and she was leading. And she didn't need me.

The thought gnawed at me, more painful than I could have imagined. It was like a hollow pit opening in my chest, a space that I had never acknowledged until now. I had rejected her because I was afraid. Afraid of what others would think of me with a crippled Luna by my side. Afraid of the implications it had for my power, for my image. And in doing so, I had lost her.

But looking at her now—sitting there, radiating authority—I knew that the truth was even more damning. She was never the weak one. I was.

As the council continued, the elder turned his attention to Warren. He spoke about land treaties, about rogue threats along the borders, but it was all just background noise to me. I watched Warren nod and smile at the council members, occasionally leaning over to whisper something to Aria, who would nod thoughtfully, her lips curving into a slight smile.

It was the way he looked at her—his eyes full of respect, admiration, and something more—that made my chest tighten with jealousy. He cared for her, that much was obvious. And it made me furious because I had thrown her away, thinking I was protecting my pack. I thought I was protecting myself from being seen as weak. Now, I realized what a fool I had been.

I had thrown away the only real chance at love that I would ever have.

"Alpha Carden, your thoughts on the joint patrol proposal?" the elder's voice snapped me back once again.

I blinked, my head whipping back toward the front of the room. I hadn’t heard a word of what they were discussing. I forced myself to focus, to ignore the way Warren's arm brushed against Aria's, or how her lips curved slightly at something he said. I needed to get it together.

"Joint patrols... Yes, I agree it could be beneficial," I said, my voice sounding foreign even to my own ears. I cleared my throat, trying to force away the lump that had formed there.

The elder gave a curt nod and moved on, his attention turning to the next topic. I let out a breath, sinking back in my chair slightly. It took all the strength I had not to look back at her, to keep my eyes on the council as if I was truly invested in the conversation.

But then, I heard her voice. Clear, confident, resonating through the room. "I believe the proposed route for the joint patrol is inefficient. We should consider adjusting it to cover more of the northern boundary where the rogue activity has been more prevalent."

Every head turned toward her as she spoke, her voice carrying an authority that commanded respect. My gaze was no exception—I was transfixed. This was the Aria I had never allowed myself to see. Not the crippled Luna, not the weak woman who needed protection, but a powerful Alpha who saw beyond what most others could.

I swallowed hard, watching as she continued to speak, her hand making a graceful motion as she gestured to the map on the table. The other Alphas were listening intently, nodding in agreement, and I could only watch, the regret in my heart growing with every passing second. I had been wrong about her. So, so wrong.

Suddenly, her gaze lifted, and for the first time since she had walked into the room, her eyes met mine. A chill ran through me—those eyes that I had once seen filled with love and warmth were now cold, indifferent. She didn’t look at me with hatred, nor anger, nor longing. She looked at me like I was a stranger—someone who held no significance in her world.

And maybe that was worse than hate. Maybe the absence of feeling, the void where love used to be, was the most painful thing she could have shown me.

She looked away just as quickly, her focus returning to the council, and it felt like a door had slammed shut between us—one that I wasn’t sure I could ever open again.

---

Later, After the Council Meeting

I lingered in the hallway as the meeting adjourned, watching the other Alphas file out, talking amongst themselves. Aria and Warren were among the last to leave. They stood together, speaking in hushed tones. Warren's hand rested on her back again, and I felt a surge of possessive anger rise in my chest.

I knew I needed to talk to her. I had to say something—anything. To explain, to apologize, to find a way to bridge the distance that had grown between us.

I took a step forward, my heart hammering in my chest. "Aria," I called, my voice sounding weaker than I intended.

She paused, her head turning slightly, her eyes meeting mine again. There was a flicker of something—annoyance?—before her face settled into an impassive mask. She turned fully to face me, Warren standing just behind her, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched me.

"Yes, Alpha Carden?" she said, her voice polite but distant.

My throat felt dry, and I struggled to find the right words. "I... I need to speak with you. Alone, if possible."

Warren’s jaw clenched, and he stepped forward, but Aria placed a hand on his arm, stopping him. She looked at me, her eyes narrowing slightly. "There's nothing to discuss, Carden. The past is behind us, and I intend to keep it that way."

Her words were like a dagger, sharp and final. I opened my mouth to argue, to plead, but she had already turned away, her attention back on Warren.

"Let's go," she said softly, and they walked away, leaving me standing alone in the hallway, feeling more lost and empty than I ever had before.

I had made my choice once. And now, it seemed, she was making hers.

And I realized, as I watched her walk away for the second time in my life, that this time, I might not get another chance to make things right.