12#12

12

Aria's Perspective

A deep rumble emanated from my wolf, cautioning both him and myself. I quickly snatched the photo album from his grasp before he could react. Without hesitation, I flung it into the nearby lake.

The sound of the splash broke the quiet.

Nicho stared at the disturbed water for a moment, his face painted with shock. Then, with a choked noise, he began to transform, his fingers elongating into claws as he plunged into the lake.

I watched impassively as he repeatedly submerged himself, searching for the album. But the water had already claimed it, much like time had erased any connection we once shared.

When he finally surfaced, soaked and trembling, he looked wretched—like a lone wolf without a pack. His luminous eyes met mine, brimming with rage, grief, and longing.

"It's over, Nicho," I said gently. "Just like us. There's nothing left to recover."

He moved to approach me, but I raised my hand to stop him.