Aria’s POV
My head was heavy.
Like sothing was pressing down on it from all sides—thick, warm, slow. I tried to think and couldn’t. Tried to rember where I was and couldn’t do that either. The last thing I had was the car. Kael’s voice. The girls crying.
And then nothing.
Just white.
---
I blinked.
White everywhere. Not the white of a hospital ceiling or a blank wall. Sothing else entirely. Softer. Like light diffused through fog, coming from no particular direction, just all around , underneath , above .
I was standing.
I didn’t rember standing up.
The ground beneath my feet was covered in flowers—pale ones, mostly, soft petals in every shade of white and cream and the faintest blush pink, growing thick between patches of grass that felt cool and real under my bare feet. Mist drifted between them. Curled around my ankles. Rose in slow, lazy spirals and then dissolved before it reached my knees.
It was beautiful.
It was also completely, utterly silent.
I turned in a slow circle.
Flowers. Mist. More flowers. The fog stretched out in every direction, far enough that I couldn’t see where it ended, and the light—whatever it was—stayed steady and soft and sourceless.
*Where—*
And then it hit all at once, like cold water.
Lina.
"Lina!" I was moving before I finished the word, turning again, scanning, looking. "Lina! Lilith—"
Nothing.
No small voice calling back. No tiny footsteps running toward . Just my own voice, swallowed by the fog, leaving nothing but a faint echo.
My chest seized.
"Kael!" Louder this ti, panic starting to climb my throat. "Kael, I’m—" My voice broke on his na. I pressed my hand to my mouth and made myself breathe. *Think. Think.* "Kael—"
Only the echo.
I walked. I didn’t know which direction—there wasn’t one that looked different from any other—I just walked, because standing still felt impossible. The flowers bent slightly as I moved through them. The mist parted. Behind , it closed again, seamless, like I’d never been there.
I called their nas until my voice went raw.
Lina. Kael. Lilith. Kael. *Kael.*
No answer. Every ti.
I was starting to shake when I heard it.
A voice.
Low. Female. Coming from sowhere ahead and slightly to the left, muffled by the fog.
"Aria."
I stopped.
It wasn’t any voice I recognized. Not Kael’s voice. Not Lina’s. But sothing about the way it said my na made my feet move toward it anyway, pulled like a thread being drawn through cloth.
I pushed through a thick curtain of mist.
And found her.
---
She was sitting in the middle of a small clearing—cross-legged on the grass, hands resting open in her lap. White dress. White hair, loose around her shoulders. She looked older than anyone I’d ever seen and younger at the sa ti, the way certain things do when they’ve simply existed long enough that age stops being the right word for them.
She was looking at .
Her expression was—I didn’t have a word for it. Gentle. Sad. Sothing deep and patient in it, like she’d been waiting for a long ti and had made peace with the waiting.
I approached slowly. Cautiously.
"Hello," I said. Because I didn’t know what else to say. "I’m sorry—do I know you? I think I might be lost."
She smiled. Just slightly.
"No," she said. "You’re not lost."
"I can’t find my daughter." My voice ca out thinner than I wanted it to. "And I can’t find Kael. I don’t know where—"
"They’re not here." Her voice was calm. Not dismissive—just certain. "This place isn’t for them."
I looked around. The flowers. The mist. The impossible soft light.
"Then what place is this?"
She tilted her head. Looked at the way you look at soone when you’re deciding how much truth to give them all at once.
"Sowhere between," she said. "You’ll go back. But you’re here for a little while yet."
Sothing about the way she said it made my skin prickle.
I studied her face. "I’m sorry, but—do we know each other? You said my na. You said it like—"
"Like I know you." She nodded. "I do."
"I don’t think we’ve t."
"We haven’t. Not like this." She shifted slightly, hands still open and relaxed in her lap. "But I’ve watched you, Aria. For a long ti." A pause. "You have sothing of mine, you know. Or you did."
I frowned. "I’m sorry?"
"Your wolf." Her voice was gentle. Matter-of-fact. "Your abilities. That particular silver color." Sothing moved in her eyes—affectionate, maybe. Faintly amused. "Those ca from . I gave them to you."
The world seed to stop for a second.
I stared at her.
"You’re—" The words stuck in my throat. I tried again. "You’re not serious."
She didn’t look offended. Just waited.
"I don’t have a wolf anymore," I said. The words landed like stones in still water, the way they always did when I said them out loud—spreading, sinking. "I lost her. She’s gone. Whatever you gave , it—it doesn’t matter anymore, because she’s—"
My voice broke.
The woman in white watched fall apart without flinching.
And then she lifted one hand.
And she waved.
Not at . Past .
I turned.
At the edge of the clearing, erging from the mist like she’d been there the whole ti, like she’d been waiting just out of sight—
A wolf.
Silver-grey. Small but perfect. Moving with that particular careful grace I’d know anywhere, in any lifeti, in any dream.
My throat closed completely.
"Artemis," I whispered.
She ca toward .
I didn’t think. I couldn’t. Every rational thing in my head simply *switched off* and I ran, stumbling through the flowers, knees barely bending fast enough, arms already reaching—
She t halfway.
She was solid. Real. Warm—so warm, warr than I rembered, the thick silver fur under my hands when I crashed into her, buried both arms in it, pulled her against my chest. She was bigger than I’d been thinking of her, sohow, the last year had made her smaller in my mory, and here she was enormous and present and *here*—
"You’re here," I choked out. "You’re *here*. I thought—I thought you were gone, I thought I’d—I thought I’d never—"
She pushed her head harder against . Pressing back into my arms like she’d been waiting for this just as long as I had.
I held her so tight my arms shook.
My face was wet. Artemis rumbled steadily under my hands and I couldn’t let go. Couldn’t move. Just stayed there, face buried in silver fur, holding on.
A long ti passed.
I don’t know how long.
Eventually—slowly—the shaking stopped. My breathing steadied. The grief didn’t go away, but it shifted into sothing else. Sothing lighter. Like a door that had been nailed shut for a year had finally swung open.
I lifted my face.
Artemis pulled back just far enough to look at . Her eyes—silver, pale, depthless—t mine.
I pressed my forehead against hers.
"I missed you," I said. "I missed you so much."
She closed her eyes.
---
I straightened up slowly. Wiped my face with the back of my hand. Turned back around.
The woman in white hadn’t moved. She was still sitting in the clearing, watching with that sa expression—gentle, patient, like this was exactly what she’d expected and she’d been glad to wait for it.
I walked back toward her on unsteady legs. Artemis padded at my side, close enough that her shoulder brushed my hip with every step.
I stopped in front of the woman.
My eyes were still wet. My voice ca out rough.
"Who are you?" I asked. "Really."
She looked up at .
Smiled.
"Your Moon Goddess," she said.
Reviews
All reviews (0)