The waning gibbous moon hung heavy over the isolated riverbank, its silver light dancing on the water. Ava sat with her legs dipped in the cold river, a shiver running through her, but her smile held, the chill grounding her. Ethan sat beside her, his black t-shirt and jeans blending into the night, his handsome face softened by moonlight, though his green eyes carried the weight of exhaustion. The cold breeze wove around them, a soothing melody, stars scattered like secrets above. A single dark house loomed nearby, its windows lifeless, adding to the eerie calm of the secluded spot.
Ava glanced at Ethan, her earlier confidence tempered by the quiet. "Thanks for bringing me here," she said, her voice low, breaking the hum of the breeze. "It's… peaceful."
Ethan nodded, his jaw tight, Sophie's memory still a dull ache in his chest. The crowning rituals' toll lingered, his body weak, his mind raw from reliving his life with Sophie—her blonde hair, her laugh, her brutal "You're a freak." He rubbed his scarred arm, forcing himself to focus. "So, what's this about Marcus? You said it's urgent."
Ava pulled her legs from the water, tucking them under her black cotton frock, her eyes sharp. "I need to know if he's for real, Ethan. With Riley." She paused, choosing her words. "Marcus says he loves her, but I've seen how you are—charming, flirty, dodging stuff. You're his best friend. Is he like you? A player?"
Ethan's lips twitched, a tired half-smile. "You think I'm a player?" His tone was light, but his eyes darkened, Sophie's rejection flashing through him.
Ava didn't flinch. "I think you play games. With Claire, Tara, maybe others. I don't want Riley hurt if Marcus is the same."
He leaned back, the grass cool against his palms, the river's murmur filling the silence. "Marcus isn't me," he said finally, voice rough. "He's got a big mouth, loves the spotlight, but when he says he's into Riley, he means it. He's not stringing her along." Ethan's gaze drifted to the water, his own heart a mess of broken promises to Sophie. "He's solid, Ava. More than I am."
Ava nodded, her tension easing slightly. "So, I hope Riley and Marcus will make a good pair," she said, her voice softer, almost wistful.
Ethan sat silent, his green eyes fixed on the river, Sophie's shadow heavy in his mind. The moonlight caught the scar on his arm, a reminder of the viper cat's curse, the pack's weight.
Ava turned to him, her tone suddenly firm. "Ethan, you should promise me you won't create any issues for them."
He looked at her, brow raised, exhaustion tempering his usual sharpness. "Ava, I'll do my job for sure. If they're meant to be together, they will be. If not, let them separate." His voice was steady, but there was a finality to it, shaped by his own fractured past with Sophie.
Ava leaned forward, her eyes locking onto his, her voice swelling with a philosophical fervor, raw and heartfelt. "Ethan, love is a blessed emotion, something we humans are meant to embrace, to feel in every fiber of our being. You're trying to escape this beautiful thing, hiding behind your charm, your games, but all that playing is just part of it—fear dressed up as control. Don't do that, Ethan. Let your soul experience it." At that moment, a cold wind breezed over their bodies, sharp and alive, as if summoned by her words. "Love is like this cold wind, healing our burning hearts, soothing the wounds we carry. In this world of loneliness, no other bond can stand by us—family, friends, they fade in our darkest moments. Even they wish to stand by our side we won't let them, being afraid of opening our weakness and vulnerabilities. Only love endures, a true love that holds you with every single heartbeat, never tiring, so close even a shadow can't slip between."
Ethan closed his eyes, the cold breeze slicing through him, Ava's words unraveling the walls he'd built. Sophie's face flooded his mind—her warmth, her rejection, the life they'd lost—tangled with the pack's crown, his werewolf blood, the viper cat's curse. Her talk of love, of healing winds and vulnerability, ripped open his loneliness, a raw, aching chasm he'd masked with charm and secrecy. His heart thudded, each beat a pulse of pain, his soul exposed under the moon's relentless gaze.
He opened his eyes, his gaze locking onto hers with a raw intensity that made her breath catch. His voice, when it came, was a shattered whisper, each syllable thick with a torment that seemed to physically emanate from him. "Ava," he pleaded, the sound torn from his very core, "as you said... can you truly hug this broken thing I call a soul so tight? Because right now..." His breath hitched, a visible tremor running through his frame. "Right now, I am so weak, Ava. So utterly alone. As you said... I need someone in this suffocating loneliness." He reached a hand towards her, hovering just short of touching, his fingers trembling. "In this world of darkness that has become my constant companion, I need someone... you... close to me. To heal this... this gaping wound... with just a touch, with the simple grace of love." His green eyes, usually sharp and guarded, were now pools of desperate yearning. "Beside my bed, Ava... every single night... until the cold embrace of my death, so close to me without an inch even for our shadow." The words hung in the night air, heavy with a vulnerability that stripped him bare.
Ava's breath caught, his plea washing over her like a tempest, each word a cry from a soul laid bare. The moonlight caught her freckles, her eyes wide, shimmering with empathy and a flicker of something deeper, stirred by the rawness of his pain. She saw him—handsome, broken, a man stripped to his core, yearning for salvation. "Ethan…" she whispered, her voice trembling under the weight of his anguish. Moved by the torment in his gaze, she leaned in, her heart guiding her, and pressed her lips to his. He joined the kiss, his passion a reflex born of desperation, locking her close, but beneath the fervor, a quiet unease stirred—Sophie's shadow loomed, and the exposure of his soul felt like a wound reopened. Their kiss was fervent, electric, a collision of longing and turmoil, the cold breeze surging around them, fluttering Ava's dark hair in the wind. As they kissed passionately, a single drop of rain touched their faces, a gentle interruption from the heavens.
A small rain started to touch them, soft droplets mingling with the breeze, wetting them slightly. They moved apart, staying in the fading rain, the delicate patter enveloping them in a quiet intimacy. Ethan was confused by the whirlwind of emotions—the kiss, Ava's words, the rain—his heart a tangle of hope, pain, and regret. The kiss had felt like a betrayal of his guarded heart, a reckless surrender to a vulnerability he wasn't ready to embrace, and Sophie's rejection echoed in his mind, making him question what he'd just allowed. He looked at her, his voice soft but urgent, tinged with a need to retreat. "Ava, come, let's go back."
Ava, with raindrops glistening on her face, nodded, her eyes still holding his, reflecting the moonlight and something unspoken, unaware of the turmoil beneath his surface. They hurried to the car, the rain intensifying into a steady drizzle. Inside, Ava gazed out the window, a quiet smile playing on her lips as she watched the rain cascade, enjoying its rhythm against the glass. Ethan's complete concentration was on driving, his hands gripping the wheel tightly.
To be continued...
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