The Snow Wolf's Mate

The Edge of Forgiveness:

[POV: Cole]

The deeper I pushed into the forest, the louder my heartbeat became.

Each step was a gamble. A risk I shouldn't have taken. I was in another pack’s territory—enemy land, by all accounts—and if I was caught, I’d be more than trespassing.

I’d be threatening the very balance between Midnight Crest and whoever ruled these trees. But none of that mattered. Because I knew that scent. Her scent.

Pine needles crushed under my paws as I moved, slower now, careful, every nerve lit like a live wire. My senses reached ahead of me, desperate to catch it again.

What if I was wrong? What if I was chasing ghosts?

What if I’d finally gone too far—tipped over the edge from guilt into full-blown delusion?

But then… between the trees, she appeared.

I stopped breathing.

She crouched low, barefoot, a soft nightdress brushing the ground. Her silver-blonde hair fell loose over her shoulders, catching moonlight like strands of frost.

She was inspecting something in the leaves—completely unaware of me, her focus somewhere else, somewhere quiet. For a second, I didn’t believe she was real.

She looked so delicate at that moment. Not broken. Not bitter. Just… Aria.

And then she turned—and froze.

Her eyes locked onto me, wide with recognition and disbelief. Her whole body went rigid, as if ready to bolt. There was no warmth in her face. No joy. Just pure, startled caution.

She didn’t know me. Not at first. That stung more than anything else ever had.

I shifted back quickly, hands raised slightly to show I wasn’t a threat. I didn’t want her to feel cornered. Not by me. Not ever again.

“It’s me,” I said softly. “Aria.”

She didn’t speak. I took a step forward.

“Listen, I… I’m sorry,” I said, my voice tight with breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “I know I shouldn’t be here.”

Still, she didn’t move. But she didn’t run either.

“I smelled you,” I continued, “on the wind. I wasn’t even expecting to find you today, but when I did—Aria… I couldn’t walk away. Not without seeing you. Not without knowing you were okay.”

Her voice, when it came, was cold steel wrapped in silk. “You shouldn’t be on this land. If the patrols find you, they’ll drag you straight to their Alpha. And he won’t ask questions before deciding what to do with you.”

I nodded. “I know. But I had to see you.”

I told her everything. How I’d searched for her. How I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t train. Couldn’t lie beside Dayana without thinking of the moment I shattered Aria completely. How every step I took inside our old pack house felt wrong without her there.

“Why are you here?” I asked gently. “And what is this place?”

Her jaw tightened, but she answered. “This is Crimson Fang territory. They took me in.”

I closed my eyes. Crimson Fang. Of course. The most brutal, most dangerous pack in the region… and yet, they’d given her shelter when we hadn’t even given her humanity.

It hurt. But it also made sense. They hadn’t seen her as disposable.

“I want you to come home,” I said, almost whispering. “I want to fix things. I want to protect you. I’ll stand between you and everyone—Dayana, my father, your family, all of them. I’ll make them answer for what they did.”

She shook her head, her voice sharper this time. “I don’t want to be protected. I want to be left alone.”

“Please—”

“I don’t miss you,” she said, cutting me off. Her eyes were hard now. “I don’t miss any of you. That place? It was never home. There’s nothing there for me. No one.”

Her words gutted me.

But I didn’t argue. I’d already said too much. Taken too much.

“I understand,” I whispered. “But if you can’t come back… will you at least let me see you? Sometimes. Just at the border. I won’t ask for more. I just… need to know you’re alive. That you’re okay.”

She didn’t answer right away. Then she turned to leave. And something inside me shattered.

Without thinking, I reached forward and caught her wrist—not hard, not to stop her, just enough to feel her, to prove she was still real.

She flinched, but didn’t pull away.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered into her shoulder. “For all of it. For not choosing you. For not protecting you. For being weak when it mattered.”

My hands trembled as I wrapped my arms around her from behind, holding her like she might vanish again.

“You were always important to me, Aria. I just… didn’t know how to show it. Not then. But I see it now. I see you. And I don’t want to lose you. Not completely. Please. Let me hold on to something.”

She didn’t return the embrace. But she didn’t push me away either.

Her voice came low, quiet, and resolute. “I’ll think about it.”

Then she pulled free and walked back toward the trees. I didn’t stop her. I just watched her disappear—again. But she hadn’t said no.

And for now, that was enough to keep me breathing.