16 - The Scent of Fate

Aria POV

Warm morning light streamed through the hospital windows, painting golden stripes across the tiled floor. Aria stood beside Ryker’s bed, fingers moving with practiced ease as she took his vitals. His breathing had steadied overnight, but the skin at the edges of his wounds still looked angry and red.

“You always this quiet in the morning, or am I just not charming enough today?” Ryker’s voice was gravel-rough, but teasing.

Aria smiled without looking up. “Vitals first, charm later.”

He gave a breathy laugh, wincing slightly. “So it’s true what they say about healers—ruthless before breakfast.”

She rolled her eyes, wrapping the cuff around his arm and pressing the monitor to his skin. “I haven’t had breakfast, so tread carefully.”

“I’d offer to make you something, but I’m a little out of commission,” he said, gesturing weakly to the bandages across his chest.

Aria huffed a quiet laugh. Ryker was infamous among the pack for his flirtations, but there was something different in the way he spoke to her this morning. Not just playful—gentler, more deliberate. As if he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

“Vitals look stable,” she said, noting the numbers on the machine. “That’s a good sign.”

“Must be your bedside manner,” he said, eyes twinkling. “I’d heal for you any day.”

She glanced up at him, one brow raised. “You’re laying it on thick this morning.”

He grinned unapologetically. “What can I say? You’re the first pretty face I’ve seen in days. And probably the only one I’d want fussing over me.”

Aria shook her head, suppressing a smile as she turned back to chart his progress.

But then—she paused. Her nose twitched. Her wolf came forward.

That scent. Smoky cedar and crisp winter air. Sharp, wild, and grounding all at once.

She stiffened. Her heart thumped harder in her chest.

No... it couldn’t be.

The scent was familiar. Too familiar. The kind that tangled in her dreams, wrapped around her in the woods, and lingered long after waking. The scent of the man with the glowing blue eyes.

She tried to focus, scribbling notes down on the clipboard, but the smell only grew stronger. More vivid. More layered.

And then—beneath the cedar and winter wind, something deeper. Like dark pine and lightning on the air. Wild magic.

Her wolf, Nyra, stirred.

Nyra lifted her head sharply, ears pricked.

Was he near?

No. She was imagining it. It had to be her imagination. It was just the memory of the dream lingering. That was all. It had to be.

Aria shook her head slightly, willing the sensation to fade. But her hand was trembling.

Nyra growled softly—not in warning, but in recognition.

Aria’s breath caught.

Then—

The door swung open.

She jumped, the clipboard nearly slipping from her hands.

And standing in the doorway was a man who could not be real.

Massive—at least 6’5, with shoulders so broad they filled the space. His dark hair was tied loosely at the nape of his neck, the soft waves catching the light. He wore no armor, no weapons, just a plain black long-sleeved shirt that clung to the thick muscle of his arms. But it was his presence that shattered the room.

The air shifted. Like the world paused to make space for him.

Aria couldn’t breathe.

He wasn’t looking at her—his storm-dark gaze was locked onto Ryker.

The tension in the room snapped taut.

Ryker’s face tightened as he pushed himself upright, eyes narrowing slightly. “Kael?”

Aria blinked. Kael? As in… Alpha Kael? Of Nightclaw?

“What are you doing here?” Ryker asked, the edge in his voice sharp.

Kael took a step forward, and it felt like the room shrank. “We’ve come to show respect. Nothing more.”

His voice was deep. Calm. But there was steel in it.

Aria could barely hear it. Could barely register anything.

The scent—goddess, that scent—it was overwhelming now. All around her, inside her. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Her lungs refused to work.

Nyra surged to the front of her mind, eyes wide, alert.

Mate.

Aria gasped, a sharp intake of breath like she’d been struck.

Ryker’s head snapped toward her. “Aria?”

She didn’t respond. Couldn’t.

Kael turned then—finally turned to face her.

And her world stopped.

Those eyes.

The glowing blue she had seen only in dreams. Stark, impossible, endless.

Everything in her stilled. Every breath, every heartbeat. It was him.

The man in the woods. The one her soul knew before her mind could catch up.

Kael’s expression shifted—something unreadable flashing across his face.

Confusion. Realization. Awe.

He took one slow step toward her.

And Aria felt it—like the ocean crashing into her, like the pull of the moon on the tide.

Her knees nearly buckled.

Nyra surged again, closer, louder.

Mate.

She swayed, one hand catching the edge of Ryker’s bed for balance.

Kael's chest rose and fell as if breathing had become difficult. His gaze held hers like a lifeline, stunned and electric.

“Aria?” Ryker said again, his voice softer now, worried.

She still couldn’t look away.

Kael stepped closer, and the bond snapped into place like a cord drawn tight between them. A current. A force.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Neither of them spoke.

They didn’t need to.

Her entire body knew. Her heart, her soul, her wolf—they all sang the same word.

Mate.

And it had never felt so terrifying… or so right.

The silence between them crackled with something ancient and unyielding. Her heart thundered in her chest as she stared at him, her mind reeling, trying to catch up with what her wolf already knew.

Nyra was nearly vibrating with excitement, pressing against the edges of Aria’s consciousness.

Ours.

Aria gripped the metal railing at Ryker’s bedside, grounding herself.

This man—the Alpha of Nightclaw. The enemy. The ghost from her dreams. The one whose eyes had haunted her for weeks.

He was here.

And he was hers.

Her pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out everything else.

Mate.

What the hell was she supposed to do now?