* Zeina *By the time Beta Kael and Beta Aldin arrived, the air in my chambers had shifted. Donna was the one who let them in, both of them still carrying the scent of wind and pine and the metallic bite of patrol. The kind of scent that belonged to wolves who hadn't yet learned to rest.Beta Kael bowed his head, ever the warrior molded from loyalty and scar-tough hide. Beta Aldin followed, more graceful but no less lethal, his eyes flicked to my belly for the briefest moment, then back to my face without a word."Alpha," Kael greeted, voice low but steady."You're not here for formality," I said. "Sit."They did. Chairs pulled closer to the hearth, where the warmth could sink into bone. Kael sat straight-backed, like he expected to be given orders. Aldin leaned slightly forward, already listening before I spoke."Cerberus won't return for some time," I said. "His grandfather has passed. The rites will be long and sacred. I've asked no message be sent to him until after the mourning.
* Zeina *The fire crackled low in the hearth, casting long shadows across the stone walls of my chamber. My hands rested over the slight swell of my abdomen, still barely noticeable beneath the folds of my dress. But the weight of it, of him or her, of the possibility, was already reshaping the bones of my world.Doctor Isolde stood at the foot of the bed, arms folded, her sharp gray eyes flicking between me and the open scroll of notes she'd drawn up during her examination."I need you to listen to me, Alpha Zeina," she said, voice steady but lined with something more personal. Worry. "I know you're strong. You led the warfront. You survived a death binding. You're not... ordinary. But pregnancy changes everything. Even for women like you."I narrowed my gaze at her. "I'm not broken, Isolde.""No," she agreed. "But you are no longer just one body. You are two. And the second one? It's demanding things from you that even you can't muscle through."Donna sat nearby, silent, a cold com
* Cerberus *I hadn't said a word the entire time Zeina spoke. I didn't need to. She carried the room like she carried everything else, on fire and unafraid, her spine straight even as her world shifted beneath her feet.But when she swayed, I felt it like a knife in my gut. Not fear, Zeina didn't allow herself fear, but something just as dangerous. Fragility.Now, hours later, the hall was empty. The scent of smoke and old stone clung to my leathers, but the silence had shifted. The moment had passed. The world had changed.Zeina was resting in her chamber, Donna and Isode never far from her side. I stood in the balcony's shadow, half-lit by moonlight, half-wrapped in my own thoughts.That was when the call came.Not a voice. Not a messenger.No, this was older magic. Darker. A whisper curled in smoke, riding the mountain wind until it pierced the marrow of my bones."Come, my grandson Cerberus. It is time."The words weren't spoken in the tongue of men. They spoke through blood, thr
* Zeina *I didn't need the room to agree with me. I only needed them to listen.I held my brother's gaze, that sharp, hard emerald that once reflected the same sky we were born under. Once, we were children playing in the ash of the fallen Flamekeep, two survivors of a dynasty that tried to burn brighter than the gods would allow. Now, we stood on opposite sides of something deeper than power, belief."Zed," I said, my voice soft but unshakable, "you think this child is a threat to your throne. You see prophecy and feel the heat licking at your feet. But he is not a usurper. He is not your undoing. He is mine."Zed's eyes narrowed, but he didn't speak. He always listened when I used his name without title."I am not here to challenge you. I never have been. I carried swords, not banners. I spilled blood to protect what little was left of our wolves, of our line. While you sat in marble halls trying to hold broken alliances together with fear and ritual, I lived among the dying. I fou
* Cerberus *She said "just one more," and gods, I would've stayed there until the mountains turned to ash and the stars blinked out, if she asked. But dawn didn't wait for men like me. And neither did the Council.Still, I let myself have it. One more breath. One more second with her fingers wrapped in mine. One more heartbeat where I wasn't the Warhound, the former Alpha, the blade drawn in the dark, I was just a man beside the woman who chose me, who believed in me, even when I didn't.The moment shattered when Donna's footsteps approached again, sharper now, more insistent. Loyal as ever, but she knew. Knew that this silence wasn't apathy, it was mourning for the peace we'd never keep.I rose slowly, muscles protesting with the memory of too many wars. My body bore the map of my failures, the scars that never quite healed. But it also bore hers, her teeth, her marks, her claim. I wasn't just his mate. I was hers. And that meant I had to be more than a weapon.Zeina watched me dres
* Cerberus *I didn't believe in omens. Not really. Not after all I'd seen, how often hope twisted itself into a blade. How many times I'd watched prophecy turn to ash in the mouths of those who dared speak it.But that dream...That dream was different.I hadn't told her yet, not all of it. Not the way the forest felt when I walked into it, not how the stars overhead pulsed like heartbeats, not how the wind called my name in the voice of something older than time. And not how the pup looked at me, not like a stranger, but like a son coming home.I stared at the ceiling of the Alpha House, arms wrapped around Zeina's body, the press of her spine a comfort I never thought I'd deserve. The silence around us was rare, so rare it almost scared me. But inside me, the dream still throbbed like the aftermath of battle.His eyes. Stormlight and violet fire. Like hers. And mine.I had never feared death, but the moment I looked into that pup's gaze, I knew fear, not of dying, but of failing. O