Logan POV.
" Alpha," Sam's voice came from behind me, subdued but wary.
I nodded for him to come in, hardly looking across my shoulder. The office was dark, the curtains pulled to block the late afternoon sun. I had no idea how long I had been seated there staring at the same stack of unspoiled papers. Though I hardly moved, it felt as though days had passed. The steps of my Beta were deliberate, like those of an approaching injured animal. Perhaps in some measure, he was.
"What is it, Sam?," I asks My voice was harsh, like a grating reminder of my little sleep.
"Standing just inside the doorway, the western patrols picked up a rogue scent along the river," he said. "We worked on it." Just a drifter most likely passing through.
I nodded, hardly sure I heard him. My thoughts were somewhere else, lost in the empty, echoing silence that seemed to fill every inch of this place since she'd left. Arria. Her name tested the margins of the suffering like a wound I kept opening.
Sam turned and hesitated. "alpha..."You missed the early morning instruction. And the council's request is— "
"I know, Sam," I shot, tougher than I meant. I heard him inhale sharply as the words hung in the air. A moment later, I made myself look at him and soften my voice. "I understand. I will take care of it.
Though I missed the indication of worry in his eyes, he nodded briefly and left without another word. Despite my best efforts to hide it, everyone could see the transformation in me. The pack looked on their Alpha to be strong, focused, and relentless—and yet, right now I was none of those things.
That evening, the packed ceremony, I had felt off-balance. My world seemed to have changed, and I was left standing among the wreckage wondering where everything had gone wrong. Like a blade cutting a link, my choice to turn her down was quick, sharp, and final. She was not Luna, I told myself. She lacked the strength to guide, defend, and carry the weight of this pack beside me.
But lately, every single day I questioned that judgement. Her face tormented my dreams every night, and the silence in this place seemed to be pressing in, as though my own choices were being gently buried alive in here.
Rising from my chair, I moved to the window rubbing a hand over my face. Beyond the pack territory, wild and wild, the forest opened out with long shadows created by the thick trees. She was living her own life somewhere far away from here. Distance from me.
The idea turned something deep inside twisted. Part of me had thought that turning her down would mark the end of it, that she would go on and discover her path. Another side, one I couldn't quiet, hurt with the knowledge I'd driven her away and that I might never see her again.
"L Logan."
The voice was low, so I turned to see my sister, Clara, standing in the doorway. She entered and silently closed the door, not waiting for permission. Her eyes wandered the room and then rested on me, eyes full of unsaid questions.
"Sam told me you'd have been... distracted," she said gently. "Is everything alright?"
"I'm fine," I said, though even I doubted it. I also could see Clara's incredulity on her face.
Logan, it has been several months. Since... you hardly have been yourself. Her voice stopped, but I knew her direction. Since the denial. Given Aria had left. Clara crossed her arms and moved a few steps towards him. "Chat with me."
I tightened my mouth and turned back towards the window. What then was there to say? Was I a fool? I wondered if I had made the biggest mistake of my life every single day. I felt bad about what I had done, even though I had tried to persuade myself that turning away Aria would be best for the pack.
"I did what I had to," I said, the words stinging on my palate. "Aria... she wasn't the right Luna."
"Maybe she wasn't ready," Clara said quietly. That's different from saying she wasn't the one, though.
I closed my eyes, her comments weighing down on me. During those first days, I had explained my choice and persuaded myself that I was sparing her from a life she could not manage. I could not, however, deny the truth any more. My denial had not been based on her preparedness or fortitude. It had been about my phobia. Of what it would mean to let her in, to share the load of running this pack with someone who could see past the Alpha, past the title, and see me, I had been terrified.
Clara gently squeezed her hand on my shoulder. "You need not go through this by yourself, Logan. Everybody mistakes occasionally. Nonetheless, this... Still clinging to regret, will only make you more miserable. Should she be very important to you, perhaps it is not too late to—
"It is," I said, a harsh rasp in my voice. She has disappeared. I decided on this. She created hers. She won't be back.
Clara sighed and cast a nearly sympathetic glance at me. I hated it—the way everyone seemed to view me now, as though they saw the emptiness I carried about like a scar. She remained silent, her hand lingering for a moment before she moved back to give me room.
She said at last, "Then maybe you need to find a way to let go". "For the pack's benefit as well as for yours. Their Alpha is what they need.
She left the room, and I was by myself once more, her words ringing in the stillness.
Let's go. Said easier than said was true. Every inch of this house carried a memory, a reminder of what I had given up. I considered Aria's laugh, the way it warmed and unrestrainedly filled the air. Her eyes were full of trust, as if she could see straight into my soul and still find something worthy there, I thought of her looks at me.
I growled and threw my fist against the wall; the sharp agony ground me and anchored me to the present. To fix on the past and hang on to ghosts was stupid. But no matter how hard I tried, the hollow ache that relentlessly reminded me of the decision I took would not go away.
The shadows lengthened outside the window, and as the sun sank below the horizon I felt the familiar weight of regret, of loneliness, of loss fall over me once more. And in that gloom I came to see the terrible reality: rejecting Aria had been simple. The actual punishment was living without her.