12 - Shadows in the Quiet

Aria POV

Warm wind danced through the trees, rustling leaves in gentle whispers. It tugged playfully at Aria’s hair, lifting wild, curling strands of red like fire in motion. Golden light poured through the high trees in delicate ribbons, softening the air with the hush of late afternoon.

She was barefoot, her long ivory dress billowing as she stepped lightly over mossy earth. The ground was damp, cool beneath her feet, springy with life. Somewhere nearby, water trickled—steady, serene. Birds chirped high above in a language she didn’t understand but somehow found comforting. She didn’t know where she was. But she wasn’t afraid.

The woods wrapped around her. Towering pines stood high on either side, their trunks thick and furrowed with the weight of centuries. Their needles whispered overhead, catching the light in swaying fragments. Ferns carpeted the forest floor, unfurling slowly at her feet, soft and green. The scent of sap and damp earth filled the air. A peaceful humming settled over her shoulders. She felt weightless and unburdened.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn’t a healer, a daughter, a pack member. She was just… Aria. A girl in the woods.

Then she saw him.

He stood just ahead, between the trees—still as stone. Light struck his face, or maybe it didn’t. Maybe it came from him. She could see little else but his eyes. Bright. Stark. Unmistakable.

A mesmerizing blue.

The kind of blue that didn’t belong to this world. The kind that haunted. They pierced through the woods like lightning in a storm—clear and wild and impossible to ignore.

Her breath caught. She didn’t know his name, didn’t know why he felt familiar—but she knew those eyes. She’d seen them before. In fragments. In fleeting flashes that vanished the moment she tried to hold onto them. Like a dream slipping through her fingers at dawn.

“Who are you?” she called, her voice a hush over the wind.

No answer.

She stepped forward. One foot. Another. Her dress whispered around her ankles.

Her heart beat faster.

“Wait—please.”

But the figure vanished. Like mist, like smoke, scattered by wind.

Gone.

Aria’s chest tightened. The silence turned heavy. Wrong.

She turned slowly.

And froze.

There was something behind her.

She didn’t see him. Couldn’t. But she felt him. The air changed—thicker, charged. Her skin prickled. Her breath hitched. Whoever he was, he was close. So close. She felt his presence like a shadow pressed to her back. Felt it in the quickening of her pulse. Felt it in the way the woods had stilled around her, as though the trees themselves were holding their breath.

She wanted to run. But her legs wouldn’t move.

Her heart thundered in her chest.

He was right behind her.

Almost—

A scream echoed through the trees.

Her eyes flew open.

Aria jerked upright, gasping.

Fluorescent light buzzed overhead, too bright, too sterile. The forest was gone. Her heartbeat still pounded in her ears as her eyes adjusted. She was in the hospital room.

Ryker’s room.

The Beta was thrashing against the sheets, sweat on his brow, his chest heaving. His eyes snapped open—wild, disoriented.

“Where—where am I?” he growled, trying to sit up.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” Aria said, her voice rushing out. She stood quickly and placed her hands on his shoulders. “You’re safe. Ryker. I’m Aria, healer with Dr. Thorne. You’re in the pack infirmary.”

His body tensed, eyes darting around. The machines beside his bed beeped steadily, tracking his vitals. His pulse was erratic, but slowing as she spoke. She could feel it in the way his shoulders relaxed beneath her hands.

“You’re safe,” she repeated, softer now. “It’s night. You’ve been out for days. You were hurt, but you’re healing. You’re going to be okay.”

His gaze flicked to her—sharp, but clearing. The confusion in his face slowly gave way to recognition.

“Aria,” he breathed.

She smiled. “Yeah. That’s me.”

He slumped back against the pillows, eyes closing briefly as if exhausted by the effort of being awake.

“That’s a good sign,” she murmured. “You being awake. I should go find my father—he’ll want to see you.”

She started to pull back, but Ryker’s hand shot out, curling gently around her wrist.

“No,” he rasped. “It’s… middle of the night, right?”

She nodded, surprised.

“We can wait ‘til morning,” he said. “Let him sleep.”

Aria hesitated, watching him. His grip wasn’t tight, just… warm. Grounding. Like someone anchoring her back to the moment. And he hadn’t let go.

For a moment, neither of them moved. The machines hummed softly around them. The quiet of the hospital wrapped them in a bubble of stillness.

Then Ryker glanced down, as if suddenly aware.

His hand slipped away from hers.

She blinked, unsure why her skin still tingled where he’d touched her.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

“No. It’s okay,” she said quickly, too quickly.

Silence stretched between them again. Ryker’s eyes drifted toward the window.

Moonlight spilled through the glass in pale silver streaks, washing the floor in a soft glow.

“I dreamt… something,” he said after a moment.

Aria glanced at him. “Nightmare?”

He shrugged. “Not sure. Just... shadows and noise. Felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

Aria nodded slowly. “You were restless. But you’re safe now.”

He didn’t reply, and she didn’t press him.

Her chair creaked softly as she sat down again beside his bed. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep here, but exhaustion had pulled her under. She tucked her legs up beneath her, eyes still hazy from her own dream.

The woods. The man. Those eyes.

She could still feel the heartbeat from it—wild and real.

“You okay?” Ryker asked suddenly, his voice quiet.

She looked at him, surprised again. “Yeah...”

He gave a slight nod, as if he understood more than he said.

They both went quiet again, the silence between them no longer awkward, just… present. Aria let her eyes drift shut for a moment. Just a moment.

The room was warm. Safe.

But in her mind, the woods were still calling.

And somewhere within them, those blue eyes waited.