Aria's POV
"Your father is looking for you."
The words hit me hard. I dropped the plate I was washing, breaking it across the kitchen floor. Lena, a member of the pack, raised an eyebrow at how lightly she told them the news.
"So it's true then. You're the daughter of Marcus Thorn."
As I bent down to pick up the broken pieces, my hands were shaking. Marcus Thorn. The man who'd thrown me away like garbage. The person who said I killed Elena.
"Where did you hear that?" I managed to ask.
"It's all over the pack networks," Lena said as she leaned against the counter. "Alpha Marcus of Moonstone Pack is looking for his missing daughter. Putting together a gift and everything."
My throat tightened. "He doesn't want me. He just wants to save face."
"Well, whatever his reason, he's coming here tomorrow. Alpha Rowan just announced it."
The room spun around me. Tomorrow. My father would be here tomorrow.
I fled the kitchen, ignoring Trish's angry words about the broken dish. My feet took me outside, toward the forest where I'd chased Elena's ghost. Where Rowan had pressed me against a tree, his body shielding mine.
Elena. The meeting at midnight. I checked the sun's position—still hours away.
I sank down against a tree trunk, memories rushing back like a tidal wave.
*"Daddy, please! I only left her for a minute! I didn't know she'd go near the water!"*
*My father's face, twisted with rage and sadness. "You were supposed to watch her! She was seven years old, Aria! SEVEN!"*
*My mother turning away from me. "I can't even look at you."*
*The whispers at Elena's funeral. "The sister pushed her. I heard it from someone who knows."*
*"Monster."*
*"Murderer."*
*"Rogue."*
A twig snapped nearby. I looked up to see a blonde girl watching me from between the trees. Not Elena this time—younger, maybe fourteen or fifteen.
"Hello?" I called, standing up. "Who are you?"
The girl didn't reply. She just stared at me with eyes that seemed too old for her young face.
"Are you from the pack?" I tried again.
She turned and ran deeper into the trees. Without thinking, I followed her.
"Wait!" I called.
The girl was fast, moving between trees like she knew every inch of the forest. Just when I thought I'd lost her, I caught a glimpse of blonde hair ahead.
She stopped in a small clearing, her back to me. Something about the way she stood made my skin crawl.
"Who are you?" I asked again. "Do you know Elena?"
The girl slowly turned around. Her face was familiar, but wrong somehow—like a twisted version of my sister.
"She was prettier," the girl said, her voice childish and eerie. "The real Elena. Before the water filled her lungs."
My blood turned to ice. "What did you say?"
"Marcus is coming," she continued, ignoring my question. "He knows you didn't kill her. But he'll never forgive you anyway."
"How do you know my father?" I stepped closer, but the girl didn't move.
She smiled, and her teeth seemed too sharp. "Everyone knows Alpha Marcus. The man who lost everything. His smallest daughter to death. His oldest to shame. His Alpha status to sadness."
"Who are you?" I demanded, my wolf stirring uncomfortably beneath my skin.
"A messenger," she said simply. "The silver lady says to tell you: don't go to the willow tree tonight. It's a trap."
"The silver lady?"
"Mara sends her regards." The girl's eyes flashed violet for a split second.
Before I could respond, strong arms grabbed me from behind. I twisted, ready to fight, only to find myself face to face with Rowan.
"What are you doing out here alone?" he growled, his silver eyes searching the clearing.
I turned back, but the blonde girl was gone.
"There was a girl," I said, my voice shaking. "She knew things about Elena, about my father."
Rowan's grip on my arms tightened. "What girl? What did she say?"
"She said Mara sends her thanks. That the willow tree meeting is a trap."
Something dark passed over his face. "Mara?" He looked confused for a moment, then shook his head. "You need to stay away from the forest, Aria. It's not safe."
"I saw her clearly," I insisted. "She was real."
Rowan's eyes softened suddenly. He reached up, pushing a strand of hair from my face with unexpected gentleness.
"I believe you," he said softly. "But there are things happening that you don't understand."
"Then help me understand." I leaned into his touch despite myself. The bond between us hummed, stronger than the rejection pain for a moment.
He jerked back as if burned, conflict clear in his eyes. "I can't."
"Can't or won't?"
"Both." His jaw tightened. "Your father will be here tomorrow morning."
My stomach dropped. "I know."
"Do you want to see him?"
The question surprised me. Since when did Rowan care what I wanted?
"No," I replied. "But I guess I don't have a choice."
"You always have a choice," Rowan said, his voice rough with emotion. "I can keep him away from you."
I stared at him, confused by this sudden protectiveness. "Why would you do that?"
Something shifted in his expression—a flash of the real Rowan breaking through whatever had been controlling him.
"Because no one should face their nightmares alone." He stepped closer again, his hand finding mine. "Especially not you."
The mate bond flared between us, warm and alive and real. For a moment, I saw longing in his eyes—the same longing I felt every time I looked at him.
"Rowan," I whispered, "something's happening to you. To us. I don't think you really wanted to reject me."
He winced as if in pain, dropping my hand. "Stop."
"Your wolf knows I'm your mate. That's why you keep finding me in the forest. That's why you can't stay away."
"I said stop!" he growled, but there was despair in his voice.
"The silver-haired woman—Mara—she's done something to you," I pressed on. "To both of us."
Rowan grabbed me by the shoulders, his face inches from mine. For one long moment, I thought he might kiss me. Instead, he whispered, "Run."
"What?"
"Tonight. Run from this pack. From me. From all of it." His eyes were clear and focused for the first time since I'd met him. "If you stay, she'll kill you. Use you for the ritual."
"What ritual?" My heart pounded in my chest. "Rowan, what's happening?"
A voice called from the direction of the packhouse. "Alpha! Where are you?"
Lyra.
Rowan's face changed instantly, the clarity disappearing from his eyes.
"Go back to the packhouse," he ordered, his voice cold again. "Stay away from the trees. And forget what I just said."
"But—"
"Now, Aria."
I turned and walked away, my mind racing. Rowan was fighting something—someone—inside his own head. And Mara was behind it all.
Back at the packhouse, I found Caleb waiting by my room. He looked terrible—pale and shaky, with dark circles under his eyes.
"Aria," he said urgently, "don't go to the willow tree tonight."
"How did you know about that?"
He shook his head like he was trying to clear it. "I don't know. I just... woke up with this feeling that you're in danger. And something about a willow tree."
"Caleb, what happened to you?"
"Lyra," he said grimly. "She did something to me. To my mind. I can't remember what, but I know it was bad."
My wolf growled inside me. *They're all being controlled.*
"There's more," Caleb continued. "Your father is coming—"
"I know," I cut him off. "Tomorrow morning."
"No, Aria. He's already here."
My blood ran cold. "What?"
"He arrived an hour ago. Rowan's been keeping him away from you, but—"
The door at the end of the hall burst open. A tall, gray-haired man stood there, his eyes finding mine instantly.
"Aria," my father said, his voice breaking on my name.
Ten years of pain and anger rushed through me. I backed away until I hit the wall.
"Get away from me," I whispered.
"Please," he begged, moving closer. "I need to tell you something. About Elena."
I froze. "What about her?"
His eyes filled with tears. "She's alive, Aria. Your sister is alive. And she's coming for you."