Nigel staggered back, the sting of Aria's words still burning on his skin. His body trembled, not from the cold, but from the weight of everything he had lost. And yet, he couldn't shake the feeling that Aria wasn't just here for vengeance. There was something deeper, something unspoken between them, a bond that neither time nor distance had severed.
But it didn't matter. He was no longer the Alpha. He had no right to claim anything—least of all her.
Aria stood a few feet away, her chest heaving as she fought to control the fury that radiated from her. The moonlight caught the edge of her silver hair, making her look almost ethereal. Yet there was nothing gentle about her presence. She was a force, and she wasn't here to be merciful.
"Why did you come back, Aria?" Nigel finally managed to ask, his voice rough, as he took a tentative step toward her. His body screamed for him to stay away, to let her leave, but he couldn't. Not when his heart was still tied to hers.
Aria didn't answer immediately. Instead, she turned her back to him, gazing out into the woods as if she were searching for something in the darkness.
"You really want to know?" Her voice was soft but laced with venom. "You don't deserve an explanation, but fine. I came back for revenge. To make you feel the pain you caused me, to show you what it feels like to lose everything."
Her words struck deep, but it wasn't the words that hurt the most. It was the finality in her tone, the sense that she had already moved on. He was just a ghost from her past, a man unworthy of redemption.
"I didn't think you could hate me more than I already hated myself," Nigel said, his voice raw with emotion. His fists clenched at his sides, nails biting into his palms. He wanted to lash out, to make her understand, but he knew it would only make things worse.
Aria let out a sharp laugh, turning to face him. Her gaze locked onto his with a mixture of disgust and something darker. "Oh, I don't hate you, Nigel. Hate is too weak a word for what I feel. But I'll make sure you never forget me. I'll make you regret ever turning your back on me."
He wanted to tell her that he hadn't turned his back on her—not really. That he had believed rejecting her was the right thing to do, that power meant more than love. But the words stuck in his throat. What good would it do to apologize now? She wouldn't believe him.
"So what now?" Nigel asked, his voice quieter, though the tension in his chest was anything but calm. "You want to finish me off? End this for good?"
Aria's eyes darkened, but instead of attacking, she took a step toward him. "I could," she said, her voice a low whisper, dangerous. "But that would be too easy. I want you to suffer, to feel the same loneliness I felt all these years. To know that you can't escape the consequences of your actions. You won't get away that easily, Nigel."
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the rustle of the wind through the trees, the distant howl of a lone wolf. It was as if time itself had stopped, leaving them suspended in this painful moment.
Nigel took another step toward her, his heart hammering in his chest. "If you want revenge," he said softly, "then take it. But I won't beg for mercy. Not now, not ever."
Aria's lips curved into a faint, almost sadistic smile. "Good," she said, the coldness in her voice sending a shiver down his spine. "I wouldn't want you to beg. This will be much more fun if you fight it."
She stepped back, her expression unreadable, but her eyes glittered with determination. "We'll see who gets the last laugh in the end, won't we, Nigel?"
He watched as she turned, walking into the shadows of the forest, leaving him standing there, consumed by a mix of guilt, desire, and a desperate need for redemption.
But he knew one thing for sure: Aria was not just a woman scorned. She was a force of nature, and she would bring the full weight of her wrath down on him, piece by piece. The question was whether he could survive the storm she was about to unleash.
As the night closed in around him, Nigel's thoughts spiraled. Revenge had always been a sharp, double-edged blade, and now, he was the one standing at its point.