AURORA'S POV:
Airports always smell like coffee, metal, and rushing feet.
   It’s still dark when we arrive. The automatic doors glide open with a whoosh, and the cold air outside nips at my skin. Students shuffle in with neck pillows, sleepy yawns, and half-zipped bags. The mood is a weird blend of exhaustion and relief.
   I trail behind the group, my passport clenched in one hand and boarding pass in the other. Jon’s beside me again, just close enough to be comforting. Arc walks a few feet behind us, pretending not to care but his gaze hasn’t left me once since we stepped into the building.
   We check in and move through security in slow motion. Nobody talks much. Even Cali is quiet, sipping an iced drink she somehow convinced a barista to make before dawn.
   When we finally settle near the gate, I take the empty seat between Jon and Cali My head leans against Jon’s shoulder. He doesn’t move, just shifts slightly so I’m more comfortable.
   "Last chance to run," he says softly, lips near my temple.
I huff out a laugh. "Tempting."
   My mind drifts as the sun begins to rise outside the massive windows, flooding the terminal in gold. For a second, it feels like the whole world pauses caught in that perfect balance between dark and light.
   Jon watches the sky too. "Everything’s going to change when we land."
I glance at him. "Hasn’t it already?"
   He gives me a faint smile. "Not quite. But soon. I can feel it."
  The intercom announces our boarding. People groan, stretch, gather their things.
   On the plane, I get a window seat. Jon takes the aisle. The middle stays empty until Arc walks down the row, stops, and looks at me.
"Can I sit?" he asks, eyes serious. Not demanding. Not cold.
I nod.
   He slips into the seat. For a long time, none of us say anything. The plane taxis, then climbs. The city below shrinks into tiny lights.
   Somewhere above the clouds, Jon falls asleep.
   Arc speaks quietly, his voice low enough not to wake him. "I know I don’t deserve it yet… but I meant what I said. I’m going to fix this, help you. Try to support you."
   I look at him, really look, and see the cracks in his armor. The regret. The longing. The fear.
   "You can’t fix the past," I say softly. “But maybe we can build something better from it."
   He stares at me, stunned, like he wasn’t expecting kindness. Then he nods once.
   The rest of the flight, I stare out the window. The sun is rising on a new day. A new chapter.
And for the first time in a long time, I’m not running from the future.
I’m flying straight toward it.
****
   The moment we step off the school bus back in the U.S., the wind hits me different. It’s colder. Less forgiving. Like it knows I left something behind in Australia, and now it wants payment.
   I tug my hoodie tighter and step onto the curb, squinting against the sun that’s a little too bright for how I feel inside. My body’s here, sure, but my mind is still spinning in Loni’s living room, still trapped in the words "They loved you."
   Most of the students rush off toward the dorms or get scooped up by waiting parents. I spot Cali waving as she’s pulled into a hug by her sister. 
  Celeste yawns and starts dragging her suitcase behind her with a muttered curse about needing sleep for six years. I force a smile and keep walking.
"Aurora," Arc calls from behind me.
   I stiffen before turning.
   His voice is gentler than usual, softer in a way that makes something inside me ache. He jogs to catch up, pushing his hair out of his eyes. The wind tugs at the edges of his hoodie, and for once, he’s not wearing that usual smugness like a second skin.
   "Hey," he says, slowing his pace to match mine.
   I nod, unsure what version of him I’m getting today. Cold and unreadable? Or the Arc who found me crying in the library and didn’t say a word and just sat there beside me?
   He clears his throat. "So… there’s a soccer match today. I’m playing."
Is she?
I blink. "Okay?"
How do I tell him that I'm not interested without hurting his feelings? Moreover, I don't think I'm in the mood to be around sweaty individuals.
   "You should come." He shifts awkwardly. "My parents flew in to watch. They’re already on campus."
   My breath hitches, but I manage to keep walking. "Oh."
"I was thinking," he continues, "after the game… maybe you could meet them."
I pause. "What?"
   His hands slide into his pockets. "They know some things. About supernatural bloodlines. Mate bonds. If anyone can figure out what’s going on between us, it’s them."
   I stare at him. "You want me to meet your parents… so they can help undo our bond?"
   Why do I feel sort of weird about our mate bond possibly ending? 
   His jaw tenses. "No. Not undo. Just… understand. Explain it."
The idea sits wrong in my stomach. Heavy. I look away. "Fine. I’ll come."
He exhales, and it almost sounds like relief.
*****
   The field is buzzing with people. School colors splash across the bleachers, and the smell of sweat, grass, and cheap nachos hangs thick in the air.
    I sit alone in the second row, hood up, arms folded tightly across my chest. I spot them near the edge of the field: Arc’s parents. His mom is elegant, dark hair twisted into a low chignon, sunglasses perched on her nose. She claps politely when someone scores. His dad stands stiff beside her, arms crossed, eyes tracking Arc’s every move with laser precision.
   The resemblance between them is uncanny. The same jawline. The same furrowed brow when they’re concentrating. I force myself to keep watching the game.
  Arc is fast. Not just athlete fast. Supernatural fast. He moves like a storm in human form - calculated chaos wrapped in black and gold. And for a second, I almost forget everything.
Until the final whistle blows.
The crowd erupts. Players swarm the field. Arc’s eyes find mine across the bleachers. He doesn’t smile, but he nods once and gestures for me to come.
   My feet move before I can decide if I want them to.
******
    We head toward the parking lot together. He’s quieter now, focused. There’s sweat still clinging to the back of his neck and steam rising faintly from his skin. The sun has dipped behind the trees, casting long shadows across the asphalt.
"They’re waiting," he murmurs, and my stomach curls inwards.
I'm so frigging nervous to meet his parents!!! What if they don't like me? Why should I actually care? Pfft!
   We round the corner, and I see them standing beside a sleek black car. His mother lifts a hand to wave. His father’s back is to us; broad, straight, powerful.
Then he turns.
And my world splits.
   The air disappears from my lungs and my vision blurs.
I’m not standing in a school parking lot anymore.
I’m a baby again. Hiding behind tall crates. My mother’s voice rings out in the distance, fierce and terrified.
And him.
That face. That man. Standing tall in battle armor, a curved sword dripping red clenched in his hand.
My mother stumbles back, holding her stomach. There’s blood. So much blood.
He doesn’t hesitate.
He lifts the sword and drives it through her.
"NO!" I scream.
The vision shatters.
  I’m on my knees, gravel digging into my skin, my chest heaving like I’ve run a marathon in ice.
   Arc’s voice cuts through the multitude of students. "Aurora?! What’s wrong?!"
   I look up at him, he who carries the blood of that man in his veins and my heart twists into something sharp and unbearable.
   "You-" My voice breaks. "You brought me here? To him?"
Arc’s face pales. "Aurora, what are you-?"
    "I saw him," choke out, tears stinging my eyes. "Your father; he killed her. He killed my mother."
   He freezes. Like I just punched the earth out from under him.
"Wait. No. That’s not - Aurora, he couldn't have-"
But I don’t wait to hear the rest.
I run.
   I shove past the rows of cars, past the shouts behind me, past the pounding in my ears. The wind cuts at my cheeks, but I don’t care. I just need to get away.
Away from Arc.
Away from his family.
Away from everything.
   My feet slam against the pavement, and I don’t stop. I can’t. Because if I do, I’ll break into a thousand pieces and I’m scared I won’t find a way back.