---- Chapter 22 No.22 Aria POV: A month later, the Silver Moon estate was once again filled with guests, but the atmosphere was entirely different. Today was a day of celebration, of union. My bonding ceremony with Damien was an event of unprecedented scale, a merging of two of the most powerful packs on the continent. Just before the ceremony began, a series of lavish gifts arrived at the gates. Priceless gems, rare artifacts, and deeds to profitable territories. They were from Ronan and the other four rogues. They hadn't come inside, their message simply stating their eternal gratitude and well wishes. They were building their own lives in the wild, but their loyalty, it seemed, remained here. At ten in the morning, the ceremony began. As | walked down the aisle on my father's arm, the sky erupted in a spectacular display of fireworks-shimmering silver for my pack, and deep, explosive black for Onyx Fang. And then, just as | reached the altar where Damien was waiting, a figure stepped out from behind a pillar. Kaelen. The entire crowd gasped. He was a wraith, a shadow of his ---- former self. His hair, once as black as a raven's wing, was now streaked with gray. His face was gaunt, his eyes holding the haunted look of a man who was already dead. The Rejection had been eating him alive from the inside out. "Aria," he said, his voice a dry rasp. "I need to speak with you." "Get out of here, rogue!" my father snarled, stepping in front of me protectively. "I'll leave," Kaelen said, his eyes never leaving mine. "I promise. | just need a few minutes." | shook my head, my heart a cold stone. "No." "Ten minutes," he begged, his voice cracking. "That's all | ask." "You don't deserve one second of her time," Damien growled, moving to my side. | looked at him, my expression a frozen mask. "The answer is no, Kaelen." A desperate, wild light entered his eyes. A terrible smile stretched his lips. "If you won't be merciful, Aria... then you leave me no choice." He unbuttoned his jacket. Strapped to his chest was a device of wires and metal plates, all centered on a glowing, pulsating core of pure, refined Silver. It was a bomb. A silver bomb, in the heart of a werewolf ceremony. A suicide mission designed to take us all with him. ---- The crowd screamed. Some began to shift, their primal instincts telling them to flee. "Ten minutes," Kaelen repeated, his thumb hovering over the detonator. "A final conversation. Or we all meet the Goddess today."