Page 40 of Redeeming His Omega Mate

Tala

The sight of Aria trembling and visibly terrified made my heart sink. I rushed to her side, kneeling beside the bed and cupping her tear-streaked face. “Aria, baby, what’s wrong? What happened?”

She threw her arms around me, her small hand gripping the thin fabric of my nightdress. Her breaths were uneven, her body shaking as if she’d been pulled from the depths of terror itself. Damian crouched beside us, his eyes sharp with concern.

Aria hiccupped between sobs, pressing her face into my shoulder. “It was horrible, Mummy,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “There was so much blood. So many people were dying. I tried to look away, but I couldn’t.”

A chill swept over me. I pulled back just enough to see her face, wiping away the tears on her cheeks. “What are you talking about, sweetheart? What did you see?”

She swallowed hard, her little fingers still clutching me as if letting go would pull her back into whatever nightmare had shaken her so badly. “There was a war,” she whispered. “Wolves fighting each other. They were ripping each other apart, and there was fire everywhere.The sky was red, and the ground was covered in bodies.” Her voice hitched. “I could hear them screaming.”

Damian and I exchanged a glance. His brows were furrowed and his jaw tight, but his eyes were soft with concern as he looked at Aria.

“It was just a nightmare, Aria,” he said gently.

She shook her head, her grip on my shirt tightening. “It wasn’t just a dream,” she insisted. “I could feel it. Like I was there.”

A chill ran down my spine. Her words stirred something deep in me, something I hadn’t thought about in years. A memory, distant but familiar, surfaced in my mind. The same dream, or at least something eerily close to it.

I forced my voice to stay calm. “Did you see anything else?”

Aria hesitated and gave a small nod. “There was a woman in white. Her clothes were covered in blood, and she was standing in the middle of it all. She wasn’t fighting. She was just…watching. Crying.”

She sniffled, her eyes filled with fear. “She looked at me, Mummy,” Aria whispered. “Like she knew me.”

A heavy weight settled in my chest, squeezing the air from my lungs because I knew this dream.

A war. Wolves fighting. Fire and blood. The cries of the dying echo in the air. And the woman, always watching, always crying.

I had seen it all before.

My hands stilled against Aria’s hair. Why were we having the same dreams?

Damian must have noticed the shift in my expression. His touch was light and questioning, his eyes searching mine. He didn’t speak, but the concern on his face said everything. Are you okay?

I forced a small smile and nodded. I turned my attention back to Aria. “I’ll get you some water, sweetheart,” I said, my voice steady despite the unease curling in my stomach.

Standing, I crossed the room to the table where a jug of water and a cup sat, grateful for the moment to collect myself.

Damian turned to Aria, reaching for her. His strong arms wrapped around her small frame, pulling her close, and Aria clung to him just as she had to me, burying her face in his chest.

“You’re safe, Aria,” he murmured, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “No one is going to hurt you, I promise.”

I felt an ache in my chest as I watched them. Aria fit so perfectly in his arms as if she belonged there. And the way Damian held her was natural and protective—like a father holding his daughter.

The thought sent a wave of guilt crashing over me. I had taken this from them. I had told myself I was protecting Aria from rejection and shielding her from the pain I had endured, but had I really been protecting her? Or had I just been protecting myself?

Pushing the thought aside, I returned to Aria and handed her the glass of water. She gulped down half before I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Try to sleep, sweetheart. I promise that it’s over now.”

She nodded hesitantly as Damian tucked her in, smoothing the blankets over her small frame. But even as she settled back into the pillows, her breathing evening out, my mind was racing.

Why was she seeing the same thing I had seen all those years ago?

The next afternoon, I took a trip to the slums to see Gina. I had a lot on my mind, and she was the only person I could unravel to.

As I stepped onto the familiar muddy ground, my eyes swept over the chaos—crates of supplies scattered across the open space, tables broken and overturned, and food stomped into the dirt. The place was wrecked, a reminder of what happened two days ago.

Damian was determined to push forward with the outreach, no matter what. I wasn’t sure how it would go, but I admired his optimism and his need to make a difference. Maybe if people saw how persistent he was, they’d start to accept him. Or maybe they’d turn on him and ambush him.

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