Chapter 11: The Face Behind the Flames
The rain started before sunrise.
It wasn't a refreshing rain but a cold, stubborn drizzle that soaked into the bones and turned the forest paths to mud. Elara stood outside the half-finished fence they were building around Virelia. The place was slowly changing from a desperate camp of survivors to a true haven, a home.
But she couldn't feel any warmth this morning.
The letter Varek had sent still burned in her hand, even though she had already read it five times.
"Come alone. You owe me that, Elara. I'm waiting."
—V.
She hadn't told Aldric. Not yet. The moment she did, she would see it in his eyes—fear. Not for himself but for her. And she didn't know if she could carry that too.
"You're up early," came a voice behind her.
She didn't turn. She already knew it was him.
Aldric's steps were quieter now. Life in the forest had stripped him of the stiff posture of royalty. He moved as if the trees had taught him something.
"I couldn't sleep," Elara said, keeping her gaze on the woods.
"You don't sleep most nights."
She allowed a brief silence before replying. "You either."
He stepped beside her. His presence had become familiar—grounding but not heavy. She didn't flinch when his fingers brushed hers.
"I got a letter," she finally said.
He waited.
"From Varek."
The air between them changed, like the storm in the sky had suddenly found them.
Aldric's hand stiffened. "What does he want?"
"To meet. Alone."
"No." It came out too quickly. He exhaled and softened his tone. "You can't trust him, Elara. You know that."
"I don't," she said quietly. "That's the problem. I don't know what he is anymore. I need to see for myself."
"He tortured you, controlled you, tried to break you."
"Yes," she said. "And part of me is still stuck in the cage he put me in. That's why I have to do this."
Aldric shook his head, jaws clenched. "You don't owe him anything."
"No," she whispered, "but I owe me something. Closure."
By late afternoon, she stood at the edge of the clearing Varek had chosen. Her hood was pulled low, her cloak soaked, and her blade hidden in her boot. She wasn't sure which version of herself would show up today—the woman or the wolf.
Varek stood waiting by a broken statue, once part of a forgotten temple. He hadn't changed much—still tall, still cold-eyed, still wearing that same unsettling smile.
"Elara," he greeted as if they were old friends.
She didn't smile back. "Varek."
"You came. I wasn't sure you would."
"I'm not here for your games."
"No games," he said, lifting his hands. "I just wanted to talk. To see you. You've changed."
"You haven't."
He laughed, quiet and bitter. "Maybe not. Maybe I never will. But I heard stories about a little village in the woods. About a girl with golden eyes who protects the weak. I had to see it for myself."
"You lost the right to see me the day you tried to own me."
He stepped closer. "You were my greatest creation, Elara. And now, you're someone else's."
"I'm not anyone's," she said sharply. "Not anymore."
For the first time, his expression wavered.
"I should hate you," she said. "But all I feel is… tired."
"Do you think he really loves you?" Varek asked. "This king of yours? You think once the world sees what you are, he'll still stand beside you?"
Elara stepped forward, every inch of her steady. "He already has."
Varek's face darkened.
"He stood with me through blood, through fear, through every nightmare I woke up screaming from. He's not perfect. But neither am I. And that's what makes it real."
Varek reached into his coat.
Elara tensed, ready to shift, ready to fight.
But he only pulled out a silver dagger, holding it flat in his palm.
"Take it," he said. "You might need it when he turns on you."
She stared at it for a long moment. Then she stepped forward and knocked it from his hand.
"I don't need your poison anymore."
"You'll regret trusting him."
"No," she said. "But I regret every time I trusted you."
She turned and walked away.
He didn't follow.
Back in the village, Aldric was waiting under the canopy where they had built the food shelter. His cloak was soaked and his boots covered in mud. He looked like he hadn't moved in hours.
Elara stopped when she saw him.
"I told you to stay," she said softly.
"I did," he replied. "Until I couldn't."
There was no anger in his voice, just relief and fear.
She walked to him. He didn't ask what happened. He didn't push. He simply pulled her into his arms, rain and all, and held her like the only thing that mattered was that she came back.
"I'm not whole," she whispered against his chest. "I don't know if I ever will be."
"I don't want perfect," he said. "I just want you."
That night, the storm passed. The sky cleared just enough for the moon to peek through, pale and hesitant.
They sat near the fire with some of the pack—Kaelen, Sira, and little Rue, who had fallen asleep on Elara's lap.
"Tell us a story," Sira asked, eyes wide with sleep.
Aldric glanced at Elara.
She smiled. "Tell her about the king who ran from his castle."
He laughed gently. "He didn't run. He just walked away. Because sometimes, finding your place doesn't mean staying where you're expected."
"And what did he find?" Sira yawned.
Aldric looked at Elara, eyes warm.
"He found the moon."
Later, when the fire had burned low and the night was quiet, Elara and Aldric stood beneath the trees.
"You're not afraid of me?" she asked.
"No," he said.
"Even when I shift? When the wolf is too close to the surface?"
"I've seen the wolf," he said. "And I've seen the woman. And I love both."
She swallowed hard. "What if I lose control?"
"Then I'll find you again."
She touched his cheek, her fingers brushing against his stubble. "I never thought I could be loved like this."
He held her hand to his heart. "And I never thought I'd find home in a forest."
They kissed—slow, honest, and rain-sweetened.
Not a fairy tale.
Something better.
Something real.
To be continued.....
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