Daniel’s POV.
The early morning chill wrapped around me as I stepped out of my car, the sky still painted with the pale hues of dawn. A strange unease churned in my gut, a feeling I couldn’t ignore. I had barely slept, my thoughts consumed by Aria. She hadn’t answered my calls or responded to my messages last night, which was unlike her.
Pulling my coat tighter, I made my way up the steps to her apartment building. The silence in the hallways was deafening, broken only by the faint hum of the lights overhead. Her door came into view, and I felt my chest tighten.
I knocked once. Then again, louder this time.
“Aria?” I called out, my voice echoing in the empty corridor.
Nothing.
I knocked again, harder this time, the growing tension in my chest making my movements sharper. Still no answer.
I reached for my phone, dialing her number once more. It rang a few times before going straight to voicemail. My jaw tightened as I stared at her door, half-convinced she was inside, ignoring me on purpose.
“Aria, I know you’re in there,” I said, my voice firm as I leaned closer to the wood. “We need to talk. Open the door.”
But the silence inside mocked me.
Something was wrong.
I stepped back, glancing around the hallway as if the walls might give me answers. She wasn’t here. I could feel it now. I tried her number again, but it went straight to voicemail, just like before.
“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath, running a hand through my hair.
Where could she have gone this early in the morning? Aria wasn’t impulsive or reckless-she wouldn’t just disappear without saying something. Unless…
The thought hit me like a punch to the gut.
I turned on my heel and headed back to my car, my mind racing. There was only one other place she might be.
—
The university campus was alive with its usual morning chaos by the time I arrived. Students hurried to classes, the hum of conversation and laughter filling the air. But none of it registered with me.
I moved through the crowd with purpose, scanning every face, searching for her. She had to be here. She had to.
“Daniel?”
I turned to see one of my colleagues, a professor I barely remembered the name of, giving me a curious look.
“You alright?” they asked.
“I’m fine,” I replied curtly before continuing on. I didn’t have time for small talk.
I headed straight for the art building, the place where I knew Aria spent most of her time. My footsteps echoed in the hallways as I searched for her, my tension growing with every passing second.
When I spotted one of her classmates near the studio, I didn’t hesitate. “Hey,” I called out, walking up to them quickly.
The girl looked startled, clutching her sketchpad to her chest. “Oh, Professor Huntington. Um, hi?”
“Have you seen Aria?” I asked, my tone sharper than I intended.
The girl hesitated, her brows furrowing. “Aria? No, I haven’t… wait.” She glanced around nervously before lowering her voice. “I heard she withdrew from the university yesterday.”
Her words hit me like a brick wall.
“What did you say?” I asked, my voice low and dangerous.
“She was in the admin office,” the girl said, taking a small step back. “I overheard her talking about transferring. I thought it was strange, but I didn’t ask her about it…”
I didn’t wait for her to finish. Spinning on my heel, I made my way to the administration office, my heart pounding in my chest.
—
The woman behind the desk looked up as I approached, her expression calm and professional.
“Can I help you?” she asked with a polite smile.
“Aria Nightshade,” I said, my voice clipped. “Did she withdraw from the university?”
The woman blinked, startled by the directness of my question. “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t share that information-”
“Please,” I interrupted, leaning over the desk slightly. “It’s important. I need to know.”
She hesitated, her eyes searching mine. Whether it was my tone or the desperation in my expression, I wasn’t sure, but she finally sighed and typed something into her computer.
“Yes, she withdrew yesterday,” the administrator confirmed, her voice soft. “She requested her file and mentioned transferring to another college.”
My chest tightened.
“Did she say where she was transferring?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
The woman shook her head. “No, she didn’t provide that information.”
I stepped back, the weight of her words crashing down on me. She had left. She was gone.
—
Sitting in my car, I tried to make sense of it all. Aria wouldn’t just leave-there had to be a reason. I pulled out my phone, opening the airline database I had access to. It took only minutes of searching before her name appeared on a passenger list.
My stomach dropped.
A flight to Nightshade territory.
Of course. She had gone back to her pack.
I leaned back in my seat, staring blankly at the dashboard. My mind raced, replaying every conversation we’d had, every moment that might have hinted at this. But I couldn’t pinpoint when she had made this decision-when she had decided to leave me behind.
I dialed her number again, gripping the phone tightly as it rang.
Voicemail.
“Aria,” I said, my voice rough with frustration and something deeper I didn’t want to name. “I don’t know why you’re doing this, but… call me back. Please. Just talk to me.”
I ended the call, letting out a shaky breath.
She wasn’t going to call back.
I could feel it now, deep in my bones. She had cut the strings, severed whatever tenuous connection we had left. And it was my fault.
I had pushed her too far, tried too hard to control her, to keep her close. I thought I could protect her, keep her safe in my world. But all I’d done was drive her away.
The realization was a bitter pill to swallow.
She was gone. And for the first time in years, I felt powerless.
As I sat there in the silence of my car, I couldn’t help but wonder: Was this the end? Or was it just the beginning of something I wasn’t ready for?