Aria’s POV

Amelia and I were still bent over the table, slowly turning the memories trapped beneath the glass. When Logan voiced his request, we both paused.

The urn was simple and uneven. Almost clumsy, like something made by hand rather than crafted for display.

But the way Logan held it, in a careful, nad reverent manner, made my wolf lower her head in respect.

"Go ahead," Amelia said, waving him off. "We’ll wait here."

I nodded as well.

Logan dipped his head in thanks, but before stepping out, his gaze lingered on the photographs as though they would disappear if he left. He eventually stepped outside.

Soon I went outside and watched him from a distance.

Stroke by stroke, he dug into the soil. The earth here wasn’t too wet, nor too dry, it was good soil.

He tested the urn against the hole, careful, precise, making sure it would fit just right. He deliberately chose a spot far from the remaining flowers, as if afraid even ashes might disturb their fragile lives.

As he began covering the urn, a sudden gust swept through the yard.

A single petal drifted down and landed on his arm.

Logan froze.

He stared at it, then slowly lifted his gaze.

The nearest patch of flowers was already fading. Their outer petals sagged, their colors dulling, only a few blooms in the center were still vibrant. They wouldn’t last much longer.

Yet this one petal which was smooth, whole and unblemished had found its way to him.

He pinched it between two fingers.

At first, he meant to bury it with the soil. I could tell by the way his hands hovered there, uncertain. Then he hesitated, slipped it into his pocket instead.

When the urn was finally covered, he didn’t spring back up like I expected him to.

He stayed there, kneeling in the dirt, shoulders still. I understood that kind of stillness.

I stepped closer to him then.

"What’s wrong?" My voice broke the quiet.

Logan looked up slowly, dazed, and our eyes met.

"Why is it taking so long to bury something?" I asked lightly as I crouched beside him until we were eye to eye. "What are you thinking about?"

For a second, he just stared at me.

Then his gaze darted away, and he ducked his head. Fine strands of golden hair slipped down over his forehead, shielding half his vision.

But his pulse was loud.

"I... I was thinking about my grandfather," he said quietly.

My wolf softened. I studied him for a moment.

"If there’s something heavy on your heart," I said gently, "you don’t have to carry it alone. You can tell me."

I meant it.

My voice was calm and steady.

Logan lifted his head. This time, he met my eyes fully. "Okay."

He swallowed. "The story I’m about to tell... it’s a long one."

I nodded and waited.

He spoke of his grandmother, who was born into wealth to an alpha and his luna, how power had woven into her blood like a curse. In her youth, she’d used that power to force his grandfather’s family who were not as wealthy and connected as hers were, to pressure him into returning to Veridale to marry her.

A forced bond. I knew what that did to a soul.

Logan mentioned how his grandfather’s coldness eventually drove his grandmother into madness, resentment rotting her from the inside. When their son was born, she’d wanted to kill the child right in front of his grandfather.

I felt my wolf bare her teeth. How cruel could a mother be to want to kill her child to spite her husband?.

Even without love, Logan’s grandfather had been soft-hearted enough to protect the cub.

Logan narrated how his grandfather had fled in the dead of night, taking his son with him.

Fate intervened.

He went on to narrate how someone with vision had discovered his grandfather, who climbed to the peak of the piano world. By then, his youth was already behind him. Fame changed everything for him.

"I can see where you get your talent from" I said in abid to cheer him up.

He nodded with a smile, "I grew up with my grandfather, he taught me everything I know."

"What about your parents?" I asked

Logan’s shoulders sank slightly. His voice drifted out, light and fragile, like a leaf giving in to gravity.

"My mother died giving birth to me. My father believed I stole her life." He paused, then added quietly, "He hated me. When he left... he left me with my grandfather."

My chest tightened. I knew what it meant to be cast out, how deeply loneliness cut. I hadn’t expected this truth from Logan, from the man who laughed too easily and hid behind music and charm.

"My grandfather was good to me," he continued. "So crossing oceans, crossing countries... that was nothing. I’d do anything to fulfill his last wish."

We stayed silent for a while. What Logan had said was real. His pain was real. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

But my wolf knew better. Some truths were still being hidden.

"Aria?"

Amelia’s voice cut cleanly through the heaviness.

I looked up to see her standing a few steps away, her hands tucked casually into her pockets, her smile warm and grounding like sunlight breaking through thick clouds.

"I sent you out to find him," she teased lightly, "so why are you both sitting here looking like the world’s about to end?"