POV Aphrodite
That night, I dream.
Not the violent, visceral dreams that have haunted me since the awakening. Not visions of ancient wolves or blood-soaked memories. This dream is different. Softer. Warmer.
I'm standing in a place that exists between sleep and waking, where reality blurs at the edges and nothing is quite solid. The air around me glows with a gentle golden light that seems to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
And there's moonlight too, silver and cool, weaving through the gold like threads of silk being spun together. The two lights dance around each other, neither trying to dominate, just existing in perfect balance.
I should be afraid. Should question where I am or how I got here. But instead, I feel calm. More calm than I've felt since before the ritual, maybe more calm than I've ever felt in my entire life.
There's a presence here with me. I can't see anyone, can't hear footsteps or breathing, but I know with absolute certainty that I'm not alone.
The presence doesn't feel threatening. Doesn't feel demanding or possessive or hungry like the bond with the twins sometimes does. It just feels warm. Patient. Like sunlight on skin after a long winter.
I turn slowly, searching for the source of the presence, but there's nothing to see. Just the golden light and silver moonlight continuing their endless dance.
"Who are you?" I ask, my voice echoing strangely in this in-between place.
No answer comes in words. But the warmth intensifies, wrapping around me like an embrace without hands. Safe. Protected. Chosen.
Not claimed. There's a crucial difference, and somehow I understand it instinctively. This presence isn't trying to own me or bind me or force me into anything. It's just here. Waiting. Watching.
The gold and silver lights pulse brighter for a moment, and I feel something settle deep in my chest. Not painful like when the bonds with the twins snapped into place. This is gentle. A seed planted rather than a hook embedded.
I close my eyes and let myself sink into the feeling. For the first time since everything changed, I don't have to fight or run or prove anything. I can just be.
The dream begins to fade at the edges, reality calling me back. But the warmth stays, lingering even as consciousness pulls me away from that golden place.
I wake slowly, unwilling to leave the peace behind.
The forest canopy comes into focus above me, grey morning light filtering through the leaves. I'm lying on my bedroll near the remnants of last night's fire. The twins are already awake, sitting on opposite sides of the cold ashes. Cassian and Bastien are further away, talking quietly about something I can't quite hear.
I sit up, expecting the usual aches and pains that follow a shift. But instead, I feel rested. Calm. Like something fundamental has shifted inside me overnight.
The twins notice immediately. Both of their heads snap toward me with identical expressions of confusion.
"Your scent," Lucen says, his voice tight. "It's different again."
Draco stands, moving closer but maintaining the distance I demanded. "What happened? Did you shift in your sleep?"
I shake my head, touching my chest where the warmth from the dream still lingers faintly. "I dreamed."
"We all dream," Lucen responds, but there's uncertainty in his voice. He can feel through the bond that something changed, even if he doesn't understand what.
"Not like this," I say quietly. I don't elaborate. Don't explain the gold and silver lights or the presence that felt more real than most of my waking hours. They wouldn't understand anyway.
Cassian approaches, concern etched across his features. "Are you alright? You seemed restless last night after we made camp."
After I asked about my parents and none of them would answer. The memory surfaces, bringing with it the anger and frustration I felt before sleep claimed me. But somehow, the emotions feel more distant now. Still present, still real, but not consuming me the way they did before.
"I'm fine," I tell him, and surprisingly, it's not a lie.
Bastien hands me some dried meat and a waterskin. I accept them without comment, eating mechanically while my mind drifts back to the dream. To that presence that watched without demanding. That warmth that asked for nothing in return.
The bond with the twins pulses uncomfortably, reacting to my thoughts about something they can't access. I feel their confusion bleeding through the connection, their unease at the changes they sense but can't explain.
Good. Let them be confused. Let them wonder what's happening to me that they have no control over.
I finish eating and stand, stretching muscles that should be sore but somehow aren't. The morning air is cool against my skin, carrying scents of pine and earth and something else. Something that wasn't there before.
Or maybe it was always there, and I'm only now learning to recognize it. That golden warmth threaded through everything, so subtle I might have missed it if I wasn't looking.
I walk to the edge of our makeshift camp, where the trees thin slightly and I can see further into the forest. Somewhere out there are the Direwolf territory markers we found yesterday. Somewhere out there are answers about who I am and where I came from.
And somewhere, watching from a distance I can't measure, is the presence from my dream.
I close my eyes and reach for it carefully, not trying to grab or demand, just acknowledging. Letting whatever it is know that I felt it. That I'm aware.
The warmth pulses once in response. Brief. Gentle. Approving.
When I open my eyes, the twins are standing nearby, watching me with expressions I can't quite read. Not quite suspicious. Not quite concerned. Something in between.
"We should keep moving," Draco says. "The pack will send scouts once they realize we're not coming back."
Once they realize I'm not coming back, he means. The twins and the others might have chosen to follow me, might be bound to me through fate or guilt or whatever combination of the two, but the pack itself has no reason to let me disappear quietly.
Especially not now that they might suspect what I really am.
I turn to face them fully, drawing myself up to my full height. The decision has been forming in my mind since I woke, crystallizing with each passing moment into something solid and immovable.
"I'm not going back," I say clearly. "Ever."
Lucen's jaw tightens. "You can't just run forever. The pack will hunt you. The Alpha will send everyone he has to bring you back."
"Let him try," I respond, surprised by the certainty in my own voice. "I spent my entire life in that pack being invisible, being powerless, being nothing. I'm not going back to that. I'd rather die free than live as their prisoner."
Cassian and Bastien exchange glances. Something passes between them, some wordless communication that ends with both of them nodding slightly.
"Then we don't go back either," Cassian says firmly. "We follow you."
"You don't have to," I tell them, even though I know the twins have no choice. The bond won't let them leave even if they wanted to. But Cassian and Bastien aren't bound to me the same way. They could walk away right now if they chose to.
"We know," Bastien responds. "But we're choosing to stay anyway."
The words settle over me, heavier than they should be. Guilt and gratitude and something else I don't have a name for mixing together in my chest.
I nod once, accepting what they're offering even if I don't fully understand why they're offering it.
The sun continues to rise, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. Morning birds begin their songs, filling the forest with sound after the quiet of night. Everything feels new somehow. Different. Like the world itself has shifted on its axis overnight.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling the dream's warmth still lingering in my bones. That presence is still there, still watching. I can feel it like a weight that doesn't press down, like eyes that don't judge.
Somewhere unseen, something ancient and patient waits for me to be ready. Waits for me to be strong enough to understand. Waits for me to choose instead of being chosen.
And for the first time since the ritual tore my life apart, I think I might actually survive what's coming.
I stand at the edge of the forest with dawn breaking around me and the weight of four males who followed me into the unknown at my back. The bond with the twins pulses steadily, uncomfortable but no longer agonizing. The presence from my dream wraps around me like invisible armor, warm and patient and utterly unlike anything else I've ever felt.
I look out at the trees stretching endlessly before us, at the world that suddenly feels both terrifying and full of possibility.
"I'm not going back," I say again, this time not to the twins or to Cassian and Bastien.
This time, I say it to myself. To the girl I used to be, who thought survival meant being invisible. To the pack that tried to break me into something they could control. To whatever gods or fate or destiny decided that my life would be anything other than what I choose to make it.
I'm not going back.
And nothing in this world or any other is going to make me.