CHAPTER 22

CATRIONA

I didn’t blink.

That burning stare of his—too ancient, too knowing—bore into me like a thousand tiny needles, sharp with secrets.

“I locked your precious guardians away,” he said, his voice a rumble, deep and cracked like old wood. “They can’t help you now. Not here. Not anywhere.”

My breath hitched. “You’re not one of them.”

A smile curved his lips. Cold. Cruel.

“You’re a sharp girl.”

I took a slow step back—but the air around me tightened like invisible ropes. I couldn’t move.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked softly. “Don’t you want to know who you really are? Why you were born? Why I’ve watched you from the moment your first breath fogged the mirror?”

I froze. My skin prickled.

“My parents—” I began.

He tilted his head, mocking. “You mean the humans who raised you?”

I felt like the floor tilted beneath me. “They were my parents.”

“No, child.” He stepped forward, the ground beneath him humming with dark power. “Your blood is older. Wilder. Not human. Not spirit. Something far rarer. Something forgotten.”

“What are you saying?” I asked, my voice shaking.

He stopped just inches from me, and this time, I could feel the chill radiating off him. Not cold like winter. Cold like death.

“I’m saying your birth was not an accident. You were bred. Forged. Designed.”

“For what?” I whispered.

His grin widened, teeth too perfect for someone so old.

“For a new beginning between life and death in our world.”

“You were the first child born under a blood eclipse. With the gift of both flesh and spirit. You were meant to be the key. But your guardians—they got in the way and hid you in the living.

I shook my head. “I don’t believe you.”

“Then ask them,” he said, raising one hand.

The space behind him split like torn cloth, revealing a vision—of me, as a child, surrounded by hooded figures chanting. My eyes glowing. My body floating.

I stumbled back. “That’s not real.”

“That’s your beginning,” he said, voice lowering. “And it’s time you remembered. Because whether you like it or not… we are coming back to finish what was meant to happen. But your spirit is too old now, which will be replaced by your son.”

I lunged at the old man, fury boiling in my veins. Leave my son alone, I snarled.

But before my fingers could even graze him, a force yanked me back so violently I gasped—then darkness swallowed me whole.

I jolted awake with a sharp breath. My body shot upright, panic ripping through me, but a firm hand pressed me down.

“Stay still,” Jayden’s calm voice anchored me, though my chest was still heaving.

My eyes darted around. White walls. A faint medicinal scent. The sterile hum of monitors. I was in the pack’s hospital.

“My son. I need to see my son. I have to protect him.” My voice cracked, raw with desperation as I tried to swing my legs off the bed.

“Catriona,” Jayden’s tone softened, steady but unyielding. “Abriel is fine.”

I shook my head, tears burning. “No—Jayden. I need to see him. Please.”

Jayden’s voice cut through the room, deep and commanding, yet threaded with concern. “Relax, Catriona. I’ll send someone to bring him here. But you need to rest—you hurt your head.”

It was only then the pounding at the back of my skull surged, like someone driving nails into my brain. I hissed in pain, lifting my hand instinctively. My fingers brushed over thick bandages.

“You fell in the bathroom,” Jayden said, watching me intently. “What happened?”

My mouth went dry. I swallowed, forcing words past the lump in my throat. “I… I was just getting out of the shower. I slipped, and then…” My voice trembled as I gripped the sheets. “Then I was pulled into the spirit world again.”

Jayden stiffened, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t interrupt.

“The old man,” I whispered, dread coiling around my ribs. “He’s different from the others. He’s the one that keeps… messing with Abriel. And now… he did something to the ones who used to help me. They’re gone, Jayden. He locked them away.”

Jayden’s fists clenched at his sides, his eyes darkening with that wolf’s storm.

“And worse—” My voice cracked, trembling as I confessed the truth that had lodged itself in my chest. “I was born… as a sacrifice to—”

The door burst open before I could finish.

Sandra stepped in, Abriel cradled in her arms. His wide eyes blinked sleepily, but the moment he saw me, his tiny arms stretched out.

“Mommy.”

The dam inside me shattered. I shoved past the pain screaming in my skull, shifting off the bed despite the pang that made my vision blur. I caught him, pulling his small body against mine, burying my face into his curls.

The ache in my head roared, but I didn’t care. I kissed his forehead again and again, clinging to him like he was my breath, my anchor, my everything. And he was my everything.

“You’re safe,” I whispered fiercely, though the tremor in my voice betrayed the storm in my chest. “I’ve got you, baby. Mommy’s here.”

Sandra’s voice softened as she came closer. “How are you feeling, Catriona?”

I tightened my hold around Abriel, breathing him in before answering. “Just the pang in my head… but I’ll be fine.”

Abriel turned in my arms, his big innocent eyes locking on me. “Mommy… are you hurt?”

My lips trembled into a smile. I pressed a gentle kiss against his forehead. “Mommy is a little hurt, sweetheart, but I’ll be fine.”

His little face lit up like the sun breaking through a storm. “Mommy, don’t get hurt again.”

Tears stung my eyes, but I forced another smile and nodded. “As you say, my baby.”

The moment threatened to soothe me, but Jayden’s voice cut through, firm and commanding. “Sandra, take Abriel back to the pack house.”

I jerked my head toward him. “No—let me stay with him a little longer.”

Jayden’s gaze didn’t waver. He reached forward, gently but firmly taking Abriel from my arms.

“Your mummy and I have to talk, buddy,” he said softly to our son, pressing a tender kiss to his curls before handing him over to Sandra.

“Mommy—” Abriel started, but Sandra hushed him and carried him out. My chest ached as the door closed, leaving the room too quiet.

Jayden turned back to me, shutting the door with a decisive click.

I met his eyes, frustration bubbling. “What was that about?”

“You need to finish what you started to tell me.” His voice was low, edged with intensity. “What did that old man say about sacrifice?”

The air seemed to grow heavier around me. My throat tightened. “He said… I was born as a sacrifice. That my birth wasn’t an accident. That I was forged for something between life and death.” My voice cracked. “Jayden, he said Abriel will be the one to replace me if he can’t use me anymore.”

Jayden’s jaw flexed. He raked his hands through his hair, pacing once before turning back to me. His silence was a weight pressing me down.

“Jayden…” my voice broke, trembling, “what am I going to do with our son? What should we do to protect him from that man?”

He stepped closer, his expression dark with determination.

“Nothing will happen,” he cut me off firmly, the Alpha in him rising. “I will find the solution to help our son.”

“How?” My voice rose in desperation. “How are you going to find a solution? That man is a spirit. He’s powerful—so powerful he sabotaged our lives. He made you doubt Abriel as your son. He’s poisoned Abriel’s mind into seeing Gabriel as his father. And I’m scared, Jayden—scared he’s planning to do even more.”

Jayden said nothing. The silence stretched, unbearable. My heart pounded harder, each second heavier than the last.

“Say something,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Please.”

Finally, he looked at me, eyes burning with resolve. “What we have to do is find a way to locate those guardians. Free them—wherever he sealed them. Only then will we have the power to fight back.”

“How, Jayden?” I shook my head, hopelessness coiling around me. “Isabella isn’t ready to help us with any magic spells. He made sure to put fear into her first.”

Jayden’s gaze hardened. “Stay here. I need to go somewhere first. Relax, and don’t overthink.”

“Jayden—”

“I will find a way,” he interrupted, voice steady, certain.

He leaned down, brushing a quick kiss against my cheek—so brief, yet heavy with unspoken promises—before turning on his heel and striding out of the room.

The door shut behind him, and I was left with only the pounding in my head… and the crushing fear that time was running out.