Aurelia's POV
He didn't appear the way I expected.
There was no thunder, no tearing of the air, no dramatic breach of the earth. One moment the quarry lay empty and silent, the next there was simply a man standing at its edge, as if he had always belonged there.
Jarek Nightfall.
He was taller than most wolves I knew, built lean rather than bulky, his dark hair pulled back at the nape of his neck. His presence pressed against my senses like a cold hand on the spine—steady, confident, invasive. Power clung to him, not wild or flaring, but disciplined to the point of cruelty.
"You're braver than I thought," he said, voice carrying easily across the quarry. "Or more reckless."
I didn't move. "You took a child."
His mouth curved slightly. "I borrowed leverage."
Raffyn growled from the shadows, fire licking dangerously close to the surface. Lucien's wings flickered once behind me, then stilled. Talon said nothing, but I felt the tension coil through him like drawn wire.
"You want me," I said. "Leave them out of it."
Jarek stepped closer, boots crunching softly on stone. "Still trying to shoulder everyone else's pain. That instinct will either make you a queen… or a corpse."
The magic inside me stirred, not in rage, but recognition. He wasn't guessing. He knew.
"What do you want?" I asked.
He stopped a few paces away, far enough to show restraint, close enough to make it deliberate. "An understanding."
I almost laughed. "You murdered a man to open a conversation."
"I removed an obstacle," he corrected calmly. "And I reminded your pack what happens when fear goes unanswered."
Silvara's voice carried softly from the shadows. "Speak your terms, Jarek."
His gaze flicked toward her, sharp and assessing. "Ah. The exile still breathes."
"Barely," she replied.
He turned back to me. "The child lives. Unharmed. For now."
My jaw tightened. "That's not a term. That's extortion."
"Call it what you like," he said. "You come to Nightfall territory. Alone. At the next full moon."
Lucien stepped forward instantly. "No."
Raffyn echoed him with a snarl. "Over my dead body."
Talon's voice was colder. "You won't leave this quarry alive."
Jarek didn't react. He didn't need to. His attention stayed on me, patient and unblinking.
"They will try to stop you," he said mildly. "And they will fail. Because you will choose."
The quarry seemed to narrow around us.
"If you come," he continued, "the child returns. The pressure on your pack ends. I withdrew my scouts."
"And if I don't?" I asked.
He smiled then—thin, knowing. "Then I continue. Slowly. Carefully. Until your pack begs you to leave."
The silence that followed was unbearable.
I felt it again—that familiar pull in my chest, the instinct to sacrifice, to absorb the damage so others wouldn't have to. It would be so easy to say yes. To end the suffering quickly.
Lucien's hand brushed mine, grounding. Raffyn's fire flared once, protective. Talon's presence steadied my breathing without a word.
Silvara watched me closely, saying nothing.
"You don't get to dictate my choices," I said at last.
Jarek inclined his head slightly. "Everyone does. You're just honest enough to admit it."
I took a slow breath. "Bring the child back. Prove you can keep a promise."
His eyes darkened. "And then?"
"Then we talk," I said. "On ground I choose."
A beat passed.
Then another.
Jarek laughed softly. "You're learning."
He lifted two fingers and pressed them together. Somewhere far away, I felt a shift—like a knot loosening.
"The child will be returned by dawn," he said. "But don't mistake this for mercy. I'm giving you time to decide who you really are."
With that, he stepped back.
The air folded in on itself, and he was gone.
The quarry exhaled all at once.
Raffyn turned on me, fire blazing. "You can't even consider this."
"I'm not agreeing," I said quietly. "I'm buying time."
Lucien searched my face, worry etched deep. "Time for what?"
I looked out at the dark rim of the quarry, at the paths that led nowhere safe anymore.
"For us to stop reacting," I said. "And start ending this."
Somewhere beyond the ridge, the full moon was already climbing.
And I knew, with a certainty that settled deep in my bones—
The next choice I made would change everything.