The Snow Wolf's Mate

The Nightmare Room:

[POV: Aria]

I collapsed into bed like I’d been dropped from the sky.

My limbs throbbed from another day of pushing myself too far—lifting, hauling, scrubbing, running drills until I couldn’t feel my fingers or feet. The ache in my bones was constant now, but I welcomed it.

I needed the pain. I needed the weight. Anything to distract me from the quiet. Anything to fill the space where thoughts might slip through.

But when sleep finally took me, it didn’t bring peace.

It never did. Not when that dream returned. The same one. Again. The same memory that never softened with time.

It was dark in my room. I’d been tossing in my sheets for what felt like hours, my skin crawling with dread I couldn’t explain.

I remember the creak of the floorboards outside my door. The sound of the knob turning. And then he stepped inside.

My father.

I remember how he didn’t say anything at first—just stood in the doorway, watching me. His face was shadowed, unreadable, but something in his eyes felt wrong.

Cold. Detached.

I froze under the covers, willing myself to believe I was dreaming. That he’d say something normal. Ask something simple. That he’d leave.

But he didn’t. He closed the door behind him. And then he moved toward me.

I could still feel it. The air turned heavier with each step he took. My breath locked in my lungs. I couldn’t scream. Couldn’t move.

His voice came then—low, quiet, oily. He had smelled of wine. Again.

“You’ve always been my favorite, Aria.”

I remember choking on my own heartbeat. My body refused to move. My skin felt too tight, my limbs too far away.

“You’re the prettiest she-wolf here, you know that, don’t you?” His fingers trailed along the edge of my blanket, hovering just over my leg.

Then he reached for the covers.

“Give Daddy a little taste of you, sweetheart. And I’ll give you anything you’ve ever wanted.”

What I wanted was to vomit right at that moment. Wanted to run. But I’d learned quite long ago that freezing and not fighting back was the only way to survive this.

I hit the floor before I even realized I was falling.

One second I was gasping awake, and the next—I was gone. My knees buckled. My legs gave out. I collapsed, shaking, onto the cold wooden floor, arms wrapped around my middle like I could hold myself together if I just squeezed tight enough.

But nothing held. Nothing worked.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe.

The panic hit me full force, no warning, no mercy, crashing over me like a wave I couldn’t escape.

My lungs locked up, throat closing so fast it felt like someone was strangling me with invisible hands. My heartbeat exploded in my ears, loud and violent and constant. It was like my body was trying to tear itself apart from the inside out.

It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s over. It’s done.

But it didn’t matter. Because it felt real. His shadow was still there. At the foot of the bed. Watching. Waiting.

I tried the grounding tricks. Tried counting backwards. Tried breathing in fours and out in eights. Tried repeating my name, my age, the month, the pack name.

Nothing worked.

I clawed at the floor, fingers digging into the cracks between the boards like I could somehow anchor myself back to reality. I curled up tight, my forehead pressed to the wood, fists pounding against it once—twice—as if pain could reset something.

It didn’t. I couldn’t stop shaking. Couldn’t stop crying. Couldn’t freaking breathe.

Then the door burst open. Footsteps. Fast. Then a voice. Sharp, urgent.

“Aria?”

It was Piper.

I heard her boots hit the floor as she dropped beside me. She didn’t speak again right away—just hovered close, her presence calm but alert.

Her hands hovered inches from me, unsure if touching me would make things worse.

“Aria,” she said again, voice lower now. Firmer. “You’re safe. It’s okay. I’m here.”

I tried to answer. Tried to form a word. But my jaw wouldn’t move right, and all that came out was a strangled, cracked sob.

My chest felt like it was caving in. Like something inside me had snapped and all that was left was static and ash.

Piper’s voice sharpened. “Aria, I need you to breathe.”

I couldn’t. I shook my head violently, curling tighter, body locking up.

Her eyes scanned the room. I heard her move—quick, practiced. Then the sound of water pouring.

Cool fingers touched my cheek. Not forceful—just there.

A pause. Then a cup pressed to my lips.

“Just a sip,” Piper said. “Come on, you can do it. Sip. Focus on the water.”

I let the cold touch my lips, and instinct made me swallow. It hit my throat like ice. The second sip didn’t burn as much.

My breathing was still jagged, sharp, uneven—but a breath did come. Then another.

I reached for her blindly, my hand shaking so badly I almost dropped the cup. She caught it. Held it with me.

My fingers clung to hers like they were the only thing tethering me to the world.

And in that moment… they were.