Chapter 4

KARA

Nine months had passed since my exile, nine long, unrelenting months in the wilderness alone, save for haunting memories that clung to me. I had hoped, at first, that the pain would subside, but it didnt.

My body had endured the change, the slow progression of time and nature was it prepared for the arrival of a new life.

“I think it’s time to give birth,” I muttered through gritted teeth, clutching the mossy ground beneath me. My hands were slick with sweat and blood, but there was a strange calm that had settled over me, even in the face of the pain. I wasn’t sure whether it was the quiet of the forest or the anticipation of meeting my son that soothed me. Either way, there was no going back now.

I had prepared myself, as best I could. I gathered soft leaves to lie on, feeling the coolness of the forest floor against my skin. There was no doctor, no healer. Just me and the raw wilderness that had taken me in when I had nowhere left to go.

The pain came in waves, but I breathed through it, determined. And then, as though summoned by fate itself, a figure appeared from the shadows.

An old woman.

She hobbled toward me, her slow steps deliberate as she leaned heavily on her walking stick. Her face was weathered, her features sharp with age, but her eyes—those eyes were sharp. She must’ve been living in the woods for years, alone, with only the trees for company.

When she saw me, her movements stilled. She paused, her gaze taking in the scene with a certain understanding. The woman did not speak at first, but there was a certain recognition in her stare.

“You’re in labor,” she finally said, her voice thin but steady.

I nodded, too weak to respond fully.

Without another word, she knelt beside me, her hands surprisingly firm despite her age. She worked with practiced ease, helping me through the agony, offering words of quiet encouragement as I gave everything to bring my son into the world. I didn’t know who this woman was, or why she had appeared when she did, but I was grateful. So, so grateful.

Minutes felt like hours. And then, finally, the sharp cry of my child filled the air, piercing the stillness of the forest.

“He’s here,” I whispered, tears stinging my eyes as I looked down at my son. His small, delicate face was scrunched up in that perfect, new-baby way, his fists clenching and unclenching. I cradled him gently, my hands slick with blood.

The woman, who had remained quiet until now, watched me with an almost maternal softness in her gaze.

“What name would you give him?” she asked, her voice faint.

I looked down at my son, his tiny body wrapped in my arms. A name had been waiting for him since before he was born, but now that he was here, it felt more real than ever.

“Rylan,” I said softly, the name tasting right on my tongue. “His name is Rylan.”

The old woman chuckled, a sound that was both frail and comforting.

“Rylan is a nice name,” she said, her voice weak, but there was a strange warmth behind it.

I nodded, cradling my son against my chest. The forest around us seemed to close in, the trees standing sentinel in the twilight.

The woman sighed, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

“I’ve been in these woods for years,” she said suddenly, as if the words had been building inside her for a long time.

I frowned, looking up at her. “Why are you in the woods? You are too old to be in here” I asked, my voice still trembling from the labor.

She tilted her head slightly, as if weighing her answer.

“I was banished, just like you,” she said, her voice steady but laden with an old sorrow.

Banished. I nodded slowly, my mind wandering back to the life I had left behind. The pack that had once been my home, the betrayal of the Alpha I had loved, the lies, the heartache.

“What did you do?” I asked, curious, though the question felt strange, as if I were asking about a life long gone, one that didn’t matter anymore.

The woman smirked, but there was something cold in it, something laced with bitterness.

“I was once a Luna in that pack where you came from,” she said, her words slow, deliberate.

“A Luna?” I echoed, my voice faint. “You were the Luna?”

She nodded slowly, her gaze distant.

“Many years ago, yes. I was a Luna… until I, too, was implicated.”

My mind spun as the realization struck me. I had been banished, yes, but this woman had been the Luna before me. What had happened to her? How had she fallen from such a high station?

“Or did you… perhaps know my son?” she asked.

The woman’s eyes flickered with something—something ancient, something deep—before she spoke again.

“Who is your son?” i asked softly, my voice tinged with sadness.

“Kieran…” she said “Kieran is my son.”

My eyes widened ever so slightly, her breath catching.

“Kieran,” she whispered, as if testing the name on her tongue. “He is my only son.”

The words hit me like a bolt of lightning. Kieran’s mother. This frail, strange woman who had appeared at the very moment I gave birth—she was Kieran’s mother. My mind reeled. The betrayal I had suffered, the pain I had endured, the endless years of exile—none of it had prepared me for this revelation.

“You are Kieran’s mother?” I asked, almost in disbelief.

She nodded weakly, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “I am. And you…” Her voice wavered. “You are the mother of his child.”

I felt a strange knot in my stomach as I gazed at her. This woman—this broken, ancient figure before me—was my son’s grandmother.

“Mother…” I murmured, a strange word that felt foreign on my tongue. I had never known my own mother. But here, in the heart of the wilderness, I was forced to call this woman by a title that had eluded me for years.

The woman’s expression faltered for a moment, but then she stared at me, her eyes glistening. I reached out, taking Rylan into my arms and placing him gently in her hands.

“This is your grandchild,” I said quietly, my voice catching in my throat.

The woman’s eyes softened as she held Rylan, her frail hands trembling as she gazed down at the child. Her tears fell freely now, her long years of isolation and pain breaking in that one moment.

“I never thought I’d see him,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. “I never thought I’d be given the chance to see my grandchild.”

I watched in silence, knowing that the weight of the moment was more than words could express. I wanted to reach out, to comfort her, but my own grief was too much to bear.

“Does Kieran know you are here?” I asked softly, though I already knew the answer.

She shook her head, her lips curling into a bitter smile.

“No. I was banished when he was still a baby,” she said, her voice softening.

The words hung in the air, like the last breath of a forgotten dream.

“I have been forgotten,” she added softly. “But you—you must never go back to that pack again. They will only hurt you, my dear child.”

I nodded, feeling the weight of her warning settle over me like a shroud. “How do I escape?” I asked, feeling the need to leave this cursed place, this land that had seen me suffer so much.

She nodded slowly, a glint of something in her eyes.

“I will tell you how to escape. When it's daylight, you will leave this place.”

But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

It was a few hours later when the first sound of terror pierced the night.

The cry of my son echoed through the woods, sharp and strident. I rushed back, my heart pounding in my chest, only to find the woman lying motionless on the ground.

I tapped her, frantic.

“Please, no,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

But she didn’t move.

“She’s dead!” I gasped, my hands trembling as I covered my mouth in horror. The woman, my unexpected guide, my son’s grandmother, had passed in the night.