Aria's POV
For the first time since training began, there was no dawn summons from Ivan.
I woke to the soft gray light of early morning, expecting to hear his familiar knock or the sound of his boots in the corridor. But the manor was quiet. No footsteps. No call to the training grounds.
I dressed anyway, pulling on the simple tunic and leggings I usually wore, but when I reached the main hall, one of the younger scouts was waiting.
"Ivan sends his apologies, Luna," he said, bowing slightly. "There was an issue at the southern border last night, so he couldn't return. He said training will resume tomorrow."
I nodded, feeling a bit of disappointment mixed with relief. My body could use the rest, even if my mind was restless.
"Thank you," I told the scout. "Tell him I'll be ready tomorrow."
He bowed again and hurried off.
I stood in the hall for a moment, unsure what to do with the unexpected free time. Then I remembered the list Cara had given me. Today was supposed to be the day I spent time with the cubs.
A small smile tugged at my lips. I hadn't realized how much I'd been looking forward to it.
The cub play area was behind the main house—a wide, grassy clearing ringed by low wooden fences and shaded by a cluster of ancient oaks. When I arrived, a dozen or so children were already there, tumbling over each other, chasing one another in circles, their laughter ringing through the morning air.
The pack's nursemaid, a woman named Mira, looked up as I approached. She gave me a warm smile.
"Luna," she said, dipping her head. "We're glad you're here. They've been asking about you."
I felt a flutter of nerves. "I hope I don't disappoint."
Mira chuckled. "You won't. Just be yourself."
I stepped into the clearing, and the children noticed me immediately. A few of them paused, wide-eyed, then rushed forward in a noisy wave.
"You're the new Luna!" a little girl with braids shouted, grabbing my hand.
"I am," I said, crouching down to her level. "My name is Aria. What's yours?"
"Lily!" she declared proudly.
The others crowded around, tugging at my sleeves, asking questions all at once.
"Can you shift yet?"
"Do you know how to fight?"
"Can you tell us a story?"
I laughed. "One at a time," I said. "Let's play first, and then I'll tell you a story. How does that sound?"
They cheered and dragged me into their games.
We played tag across the grass, the cubs shrieking with delight every time I let them catch me. I climbed the low branches of the oak tree with them, showing them how to balance on the sturdiest limbs. When one little boy fell and scraped his knee, I knelt beside him, cleaned the cut with a cloth from my pocket, and kissed it better—just like my mother used to do for me.
The boy blinked up at me, eyes wide. "You're nice," he whispered.
I smiled. "So are you."
By midday, we were all sprawled out on the grass, breathless and happy. I sat in the middle of the circle, telling them the story of the first wolf who befriended the moon—how she taught him to run under the stars and never fear the dark.
They listened with wide eyes, hanging on every word. When I finished, Lily crawled into my lap and rested her head against my shoulder.
"I like you," she said sleepily. "You're going to stay, right?"
I wrapped an arm around her. "I'm going to try."
The other cubs piled on, giggling and yawning. Mira watched from the edge of the clearing, her expression soft.
"You have a gift with them," she said quietly when the children began to doze. "They don't warm to everyone so quickly."
I looked down at Lily's small hand curled in mine. "They're easy to love."
Mira smiled. "So are you, Luna."
The afternoon sun was warm on my skin, the laughter of the cubs still echoing in my ears. I felt… light. Like maybe, just maybe, I was starting to belong here.
The cubs were still sprawled around me, most of them dozing. I was about to get up and take my leave when Raine suddenly entered through the low gate that separated the play area from the main grounds.
He was dressed simply—dark tunic, sleeves rolled to his elbows, hair slightly tousled by the wind.
The children noticed him at once.
"Alpha!" Lily squealed, scrambling out of my lap. The others followed in a noisy wave, racing across the grass toward him.
Raine's expression softened in a way I'd never seen before. He dropped to one knee as the cubs swarmed him, arms opening wide. They crashed into him, giggling and shouting, and he hugged them back. One little boy climbed onto his back like a tree, and Raine let him, laughing low in his throat.
I stayed where I was, frozen, watching.
I had never seen him like this.
One of the bolder cubs—a boy with bright red hair—tugged at Raine's sleeve.
"Alpha! Are you going to have cubs with Luna Aria?" he asked, loud and innocent. "So we can play with them?"
The question hung in the air, waiting for an answer.
I felt heat rush to my face. Raine's laugh was short. He ruffled the boy's hair.
"I…don't know for now," he said. "We'll have to see."
The cubs seemed satisfied with that. Another one—a tiny girl with pigtails—tugged at his tunic.
"Play us a song, Alpha! Like you always do!"
I glanced around and noticed the guitar for the first time. It rested against the trunk of the nearest oak.
Raine hesitated.
"Not today," he began, but the cubs were already begging.
"Please!"
"Just one!"
"You promised last time!"
They crowded around him, eyes wide and pleading. Raine sighed.
He glanced toward me for the briefest second—our eyes met—and then he nodded.
"All right. Just one."
The cubs cheered. They dragged him toward the oak, tugging him down until he sat cross-legged on the grass. One of them handed him the guitar with reverence.
Raine settled it across his lap, fingers finding the string like they knew exactly where to go. He strummed once, testing the sound. The notes were clear.
Then he began to play.
It was a simple melody—soft, like a lullaby carried on the wind. His fingers moved, plucking and strumming in perfect rhythm. The cubs settled around him in a loose circle, some leaning against his legs, others resting their heads on his knees.
I couldn't look away.
The song was beautiful. Gentle. Nothing like the cold, distant Alpha I had come to expect.
When the last note faded, the clearing was silent for a heartbeat. Then the cubs erupted in applause, clapping and shouting for more.
Raine smiled and shook his head.
"That's all for today," he said, handing the guitar back to the red-haired boy. "Go play."
They scattered reluctantly, still buzzing with excitement.
Raine stood, brushing the grass from his pants. He glanced at me again—longer this time. Our eyes met across the clearing.
He didn't smile. He didn't speak.
But for the first time, I saw something in his expression that seemed softer.
Something almost human.
Then he turned and walked away, leaving the cubs' laughter and the echo of the song behind him.
I sat there, realizing something I hadn't allowed myself to consider before.
Raine Blackthorn was not the cold-hearted monster I had presumed him to be.
And maybe—just maybe—he never had been.