Chapter 4 Letters in the Ashes

Truth makes noise.

It hums in silence, carries weight in the air, and rouses something in your blood.

That morning, when Kael disappeared like vapor and Aunt Celeste let her final statement drop like a knife, he knew who murdered your father realized the truth I'd dreaded all along was already unraveling.

And I wasn't prepared.

I played hooky. Tessa was texting me, filling up my phone, but I did not look at any of them. Aunt Celeste never questioned where I was headed when I walked out of the house with a hoodie on my head and my mother's locket on my neck like a compass pointing east for remembering.

Raven Hollow slipped away in a blur, the bakery whose chimney slanted drunkenly, the old chapel where wind never ceased to whistle through the bell tower, the bookstore where I first fell in love with words. Everything grew distant as I walked out to the outskirts of town, to the house nobody talked of anymore.

My parents' house.

It remained covered in ivy and shadow, and forgotten by everyone, but remembered by the wind and me. The porch creaked. The shutters hung as if broken wings. And yet something about it still beckoned to me like a heartbeat under the debris.

The secret was where Aunt Celeste promised it would be: beneath the third rock on the porch, wrapped up in a fistful of dry red ribbon with a knot like remembrance.

The lock creaked in complaint, but the door yielded to a reluctant sigh.

Dust and quiet inhabited here now, thick as sorrow. And yet there remained the gently spoken fragrance of lavender, my mother's scent. Ebbing, but still clinging. Still refusing to let go.

I stepped over the threshold as though I were trespassing into a dream.

Time had been frozen in this place. A shelf of old books slanted under the weight of their bulk. A shattered picture frame hung crooked on the wall, depicting my parents smiling together, eyes gazing as if they held a secret no one else ever would. My mother's hand rested on her distended belly on me.

The memories flashed. Laughter. Lullabies. A wolf-shaped nightlight. The sound of footsteps that never quite went on.

The back room, one I'd never been permitted in-was suddenly before me, its door half-open as though waiting.

Sunlight in bars danced through dust. A desk was set in front of a broken window, moonlight stains etched on the wood. On it sat a small wooden box, heavy-looking, crescent moons and stars engraved upon its face. My fingertips were sore as I ran my fingers over it.

There were letters inside- dozens.

Every one of them was addressed to me.

Aria,

If you're reading this, it's because I'm not here. And that means your mother kept her word and kept you from this world until you were ready. But the blood of me in you would never lie still for good.

My dad's writing was strong but hasty, as if he'd written these as war followed him. Letter after letter recounted the story I wasn't supposed to know.

He had loved with all his heart. Fought with every breath in his body. Met my mother at the fringes of packs, when he was scouting and she was looking for visions. Called her the storm in his peace. Told her eyes had seen beyond what was and into what might be.

She had warned him I'd be different. Marked. Moonborn.

The packs were afraid. Afraid of me.

He wrote of betrayal. Moonlight oaths. Corvan of Shadowmoor-Kael's father swore an untrue peace.

He spoke his name.

Corvan. He swore peace. He swore an alliance. And he betrayed me. I left to protect your mother and never came back. If you ever come upon Kael... be warned: he has my blood on his father's hands.

The words stole the air from me.

Kael's face materialized in my mind. The look he had shared with me. The breaking of his voice on my name. His promise to safeguard me. How was this matched with this truth?

He knew. And had not said a word.

My hands trembled as I scooped up all the letters and jammed them in the box. The walls collapsed, draped in ghosts and realities too hard to bear.

I ran from the house and stumbled into the woods, the forest dim and breathing around me. The wind sliced through the trees like whispers. Like warnings.

And then I felt him.

Not saw. Felt.

A flutter in the air. A band was tightening around my chest.

"You went looking," Kael said, emerging from the line of trees like a shadow made flesh.

I faced him, the box pressed to my chest. "You knew."

His expression was calm. "I did."

"And you didn't mention it to me?"

"I wanted to," he said. "But I didn't want you to look at me as his son first. Before you looked at me as... me."

"He murdered my father."

"I know," Kael breathed. He took another step forward, and I shoved him back. He hesitated. "My father's a monster. I've done everything in my life to keep from being him."

"Why do you defend me, then?" I snapped. "Out of guilt?"

No, he snarled, voice coarse. "Because I had seen you before I had known your name. Felt the bond before knowing your name. And because I would burn all blood oath and kingdoms to ashes to keep you safe."

I wanted to believe him. Enough that it hurt.

But life was a wildfire. It burned to ash whatever came in its way.

"I need time," I whispered to him.

"I'll wait," he panted. "But not all of them will. The packs are rising. Blood's been spilled. And war is coming."

And then he disappeared into the woods, standing there alone with a box of letters, a burning heart, and a destiny I no longer knew how to flee.