The Silver Goddess

***Aria’s POV***

Stella’s frantic knocking practically vibrated right through the heavy wood of my bedroom door, pulling me from a restless sleep. It was mid-morning, and the house was blissfully absent of the usual suffocating tension that accompanied my parents. They had departed hours ago to oversee the final preparations for the grand ball, leaving us to our own devices until the evening. The moment I opened the door, Stella bounded inside, already bouncing on the balls of her feet with enough nervous energy to power the entire pack house.

We spent the majority of the daylight hours safely barricaded in the bright sanctuary of Stella’s bedroom. After I had cooked and brought up a late brunch, she insisted that the preparation for her very first Gathering required all-day dedication.

"Aria, seriously, just let me do a little bit of your makeup," Stella pleaded, hovering over me with a handful of expensive-looking brushes. "I promise I won't go overboard. Maybe just a little bit of shadow? I really want to try and bring out the unique grey tones in your eyes."

I offered her a polite but incredibly firm smile, gently pushing her hand away. "To achieve what exactly, Stella? They are completely unseeing. A little bit of eyeshadow isn't going to change the fact that I’m blind."

"I could match the colors to Nyx’s coat," she countered stubbornly, dropping her hands to her hips. "Are you really planning on going to the ball entirely blind tonight?"

Instead of answering immediately, I turned my face toward her bedroom window. For a moment, I let Nyx push her sharp, vibrant vision to the forefront of my mind. My wolf’s borrowed sight instantly flooded my brain. First, I was mercilessly assaulted by Stella’s aggressively pink-and-white striped wallpaper and the frankly ridiculous mountain of fluffy red heart pillows piled on her bed. Blinking away the sensory shock, I shifted my focus to the lush, sprawling forest sitting just beyond the glass pane. The vibrant, deep greens of the trembling leaves soothed my mind. Normally, I relied on Nyx’s eyes heavily, terrified of navigating unfamiliar spaces in the pitch black.

But tonight was different. A profound, deliberate decision had already settled deep within my bones. I wasn't going to hide behind my wolf tonight. If my fated mate was going to look at me and reject me—which I assumed was an absolute, undeniable certainty—he was going to look at the real me. He was going to see every single flaw, the extensive scars, and the unbroken, milky blindness of my eyes.

"I am," I finally answered, cutting the visual feed slightly to look in her general direction. "I'm not hiding."

Stella sighed, though there was a grudging respect in her tone. "Well, I still think your eyes are pretty. Sometimes, if I look into them long enough, it feels like staring straight into a cloudy galaxy. But fine. Be stubborn."

"Your romantic heart is admirable, Stella, but let's focus on the actual star of the evening," I deflected smoothly. "How is the dress? Did Father actually let you buy the one you wanted?"

Stella let out a loud, frustrated huff, and I could hear the rustle of fabric as she threw herself dramatically onto her vanity stool. "No! He was being such a massive hard-ass about the whole thing. He took one look at it and barked that no daughter of his would ever walk around looking like a skank. And Mom, of course, just stood there and didn't even try to fight him on it. So, I had to settle for a forced compromise."

I couldn't help the genuine, hearty laugh that escaped my chest at her scarily accurate impression of our father's booming, authoritative voice. The dress she had originally begged for was a sinfully skin-tight red number. It would have looked absolutely breathtaking on her, but it also made her look like she was in her early twenties instead of a teenager. Stella wasn't overly curvy, but she was definitely more physically developed than the average fifteen-year-old.

The compromise dress she had ultimately settled on was draped over her closet door. It was a stunning, midnight-blue ballgown. It hugged the waist tightly before flaring out into a massive, heavy skirt made of layers upon layers of expensive tulle. The price tag had been utterly astronomical—I knew for a fact that the last three months of my grueling wages had gone directly into paying for it. But I didn't care. I honestly preferred spending my hard-earned money on my sister’s first Gathering rather than watching it vanish into another ugly designer handbag for Victoria.

"You know," Stella mused, her voice taking on a dreamy quality as she likely admired the blue gown. "Everyone is whispering that the famously thirty-year-old Alpha Roman from the Bloodmoon Pack is attending tonight. Maybe I’ll end up being his Luna. Maybe he's been single this entire time because he was just waiting for me to turn of age."

I burst into another fit of laughter, clutching my stomach. "Oh, the poor guy. I would die laughing if he gets stuck with little Suzie from down the street, or worse. Can you imagine? He’s a terrifying, fully grown Alpha, and his fated mate ends up being thirteen or fifteen? The absolute absurdity of it."

Stella giggled loudly, the sound bouncing off the walls. "Oh, how incredibly cruel the Moon Goddess can be! Just imagine his face." She paused, and I heard the distinct sound of jars opening as she began an incredibly elaborate, multi-step skincare routine that I absolutely did not envy. "Anyway, what about your dress? I know for a fact that Dad didn't give you a single dime to buy anything nice for tonight."

I leaned back against the wall, a bitter smile touching my lips. "Oh, he brought home a tiny scrap of ugly, pastel blue fabric. He tossed it at me and told me to make it myself."

Stella gasped, her chair squeaking violently as she spun around. "What?! Don't tell me it was from that hideous bag of scraps in the sewing room!"

"The very same," I confirmed dryly. "There was barely enough material to cover half of my body. It was completely intended to humiliate me. But it's not like I hold any power to argue with him."

"So... what are you going to wear?" Stella asked, her voice dropping into a whisper of genuine concern.

A dark, mischievous smirk stretched across my face. "Do you happen to remember Victoria’s incredibly tacky metallic phase from a few years ago? Specifically, that old, king-size silver comforter?"

"That shimmery, blinding silver blanket?" Stella asked, her tone highly skeptical. "God, that thing physically hurt my eyes to look at. It was so weird, almost as if they forgot we literally have a genetic weakness to silver."

"Exactly," I purred. "I stole it from her closet ages ago. It’s been sitting practically rotting in the back of my wardrobe for four years. So, I used it to make something."

I could practically feel Stella shooting me a look of pure, unadulterated disbelief through the mirror. She clearly doubted my ability to turn a tacky bedsheet into high fashion. But she quickly recovered, loudly waggling her eyebrows—a movement I caught just before pulling back from Nyx's vision entirely. "Well," Stella teased playfully, "you should definitely try to look incredibly hot. You might actually find your mate tonight. Who knows, maybe Alpha Roman is *your* mate."

I made a loud, exaggerated gagging sound, sending her into another fit of giggles.

We spent the rest of the day completely secluded in her room. As the afternoon bled into the evening, I heard the heavy thud of the front door opening and closing downstairs. Heavy footsteps took the stairs two at a time. Jace.

"You're cutting it incredibly close, Jace!" I called out into the hallway. "We need to leave in about an hour!"

He scoffed loudly, pausing outside the door. "Says the girl who isn't even dressed yet."

"Stella's midnight-blue monstrosity requires a small army to get into," I retorted sharply. "I might actually need your physical strength. Go shower."

Jace grumbled something under his breath and retreated to his room.

"Alright, Stella," I sighed, stretching my arms. "Let's wrestle you into this thing."

It took a solid fifteen minutes of pulling, tugging, and ignoring Stella's dramatic complaining about her crushed ribs before I finally managed to lace up the tight corset back of her massive, heavy gown. By the time I finished, Jace had emerged from his room, looking surprisingly sharp in a crisp white dress jacket, black shirt, and matching slacks.

"Okay, my job here is done," I announced, wiping a bead of sweat from my forehead. "I'm going to change."

I slipped away into the quiet solitude of my own small room. Stella had already meticulously styled my thick, unruly platinum hair earlier in the afternoon. The pale strands, which perfectly matched Nyx's brilliant coat, were woven into an elegant, intricate braid draped heavily over my right shoulder, dotted with small, delicate pearl pins. I stripped off the baggy sweatpants and oversized t-shirt I had been hiding in all day, letting the cool air hit my skin.

Carefully, I pulled my absolute masterpiece from its protective garment bag.

Slipping the dress over my body, I let out a slow, shaky breath. I had painstakingly crafted the garment entirely from that stolen silver blanket, and the result was nothing short of breathtaking. The flowing, shimmering material cascaded down my frame, making me feel like a powerful, ancient Greek goddess. The design featured a daringly deep V-neck that plunged dangerously low, mirrored by a completely open, plunging low back. The skirt was pleated to allow for fluid movement, broken only by incredibly high, dramatic slits climbing up both of my thighs.

The revealing design proudly and unapologetically displayed the extensive network of silver scars crisscrossing my arms, back, and legs. But I didn't care. I felt fierce. I felt confident. And I noted with immense, spiteful satisfaction that this was absolutely, definitively not a father-approved garment. That simple fact alone filled my chest with a warm, defiant happiness.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of my room and made my way down the hall, emerging into the bright lights of the kitchen where Jace and Stella were waiting.

The reaction was instantaneous.

Jace, who had been mid-sip from a glass of water, completely choked. He violently spewed water across the kitchen island, coughing wildly as he aggressively pounded a fist against his chest. His eyes went wide as saucers as he finally caught his breath. "There is absolutely no way in hell you are wearing that out of this house!"

Stella instantly jumped to my defense. She planted her hands firmly on her hips and loudly argued back, swaying her own hips to emphasize her point. "Why the hell not?! She looks undeniably hot! Who knew you were hiding a body like that under those baggy, depressing rags you always wear?"

"Because," Jace grumbled in utter frustration, furiously wiping his wet chin with the back of his hand, "we are supposed to be going out to find our fated mates tonight! I am not spending my entire evening physically beating off grown men with a stick because my two sisters look like they just stepped directly out of a wet dream!"

I wrinkled my nose in immediate disgust, crossing my arms over my chest. "First of all, gross. I am no one's wet dream, Jace. And secondly, we all know exactly how tonight is going to end for me." I kept my voice firm, refusing to let the underlying sting of my impending rejection show. "My mate will take one look at my blind eyes and walk the other way. So, you should solely focus your protective Alpha energy on making sure Stella is taken care of."

Jace let out a heavy, defeated sigh, running a hand through his damp hair. But before he could argue further, Stella squealed loudly, grabbing her heavy skirts. "We are going to be late! Mom and Dad are going to literally kill us! Let's go!"

Jace practically rushed us out the door, herding us toward his sleek, dark sedan parked in the driveway. It took a comical amount of effort to physically haul Stella and the enormous, puffy skirt of her gown into the back seat, leaving the passenger side completely open.

For the very first time in my entire life, I was allowed to sit in the front seat.

I slipped into the leather chair, closing the door with a satisfying thud. As Jace started the engine and pulled out of the driveway, I intentionally asked Nyx to completely withdraw her vision for the night. I wanted my eyes to remain fully, authentically blind. The sudden descent into absolute, crushing darkness was momentarily jarring, sharpening my remaining senses to a razor's edge. I could hear the hum of the tires, smell the faint scent of Jace's cologne, and—most prominently—I could physically feel the heavy weight of Jace's eyes staring at the side of my face.

"You know I can literally feel you staring at me, right?" I called him out sharply, breaking the quiet tension in the car.

Jace cleared his throat awkwardly, his hands shifting on the steering wheel. "Sorry," he murmured, his tone softening with a deep, loving brotherly affection. He paused for a long second before speaking again. "It's just... the dress truly suits you, Aria. You look incredibly lovely tonight."

A warm, genuine smile touched my lips at his words.

From the back seat, Stella chimed in loudly, complaining over the roar of the engine. "Suits her?! She looks like a literal bombshell! A damn Greek goddess! Honestly, sitting next to her, I really should have fought Dad to the death for that red dress!"

Jace chuckled warmly, the tension finally leaving his shoulders as he navigated the winding roads.

The drive passed quickly, filled with comfortable banter. At exactly 6:00 pm, the tires crunched over the gravel as we pulled into the massive, sprawling parking lot of the castle venue. The air outside was already buzzing with the electric energy of hundreds of wolves gathering.

After parking, Jace and I spent another solid two minutes physically hauling Stella and her impossibly enormous skirt out of the cramped sedan. Once she was finally free and standing upright, she smoothed down her tulle with a dramatic huff.

Without a word, the three of us stepped together. Jace held out his arms, and Stella and I immediately locked our elbows through his. United, we walked up the massive stone steps and pushed through the heavy wooden doors. As we crossed the threshold, the dim, moody lighting washed over my skin, and the heavy, pulsing bass of the music vibrated straight up through the floorboards and into the soles of my shoes.

And so, the fateful night officially began.