HIS BABY GROWS INSIDE ME, BUT HIS HEART BELONGS TO HER

Three days.That’s how long it took me to reach the outer territories.Each step away from the Crescent Moon Pack felt like dragging my body through fire, but I didn’t stop. Not for food. Not for sleep. Only when the sun bled into the horizon did I allow myself to rest under trees too old to remember names, cradling my stomach like a shield.The forest changed the farther I got from the pack. The air lost its familiar scents. No more baked bread from the kitchens. No training grunts in the wind. Just silence. Wind. Shadows. My wolf was quiet, as if mourning.I found a rogue town just beyond the Blackridge border. It wasn’t marked on maps, but wolves like me, those who didn’t belong, found ways to hear about places where no rank mattered. A dirt path led to it, narrow and overgrown, lined with ash trees that whispered like ghosts. I followed it with a hunger that had nothing to do with food.The town didn’t have a name. Just buildings that leaned like they were tired of standing. The s

Kael didn’t sleep.He sat in the wooden chair beside my bed, back straight, muscles tight. His eyes never left me, though I couldn’t meet him.The fire cracked low in the hearth, casting shadows across his face. He hadn’t shaved. His jaw was rough, his eyes darker than I remembered like a forest before a storm.“I didn’t know,” he said at last.I didn’t answer.“I didn’t know you were carrying my child.”“You didn’t care to ask.”My voice came out steady, but my hands trembled under the blanket.Kael looked away, jaw clenched.“I thought you left because of me.”“I did.”His head lowered, as if the words were too heavy.I stared at the ceiling, willing my heart to harden. I didn’t want to feel anything for him anymore. Not the pain. Not the warmth. Not the familiar ache that still tied me to him, despite everything.“I didn’t expect this,” he whispered. “To find you like this. Bleeding. Alone.”I turned toward him slowly. “And what did you expect? That I’d wait around while you kissed

The fire cracked low in the hearth as I held the note in my hands. The paper trembled slightly, whether from my fingers or the storm brewing inside me, I couldn’t tell. Seven words. Just seven. But they carried more weight than a hundred truths spoken aloud.*He’s lying. He always has. You’re not the only one carrying his child.*I read it again and again, hoping that some hidden clue would reveal itself, something to prove it was a cruel joke. But there was nothing, no name, no scent, no trace. Whoever left it knew how to cover their tracks.The healer’s house had never felt more unfamiliar. Shadows crept along the walls, and the silence buzzed like an accusation. I folded the note tightly and tucked it under the mattress. Then I stood and began to pace.Kael was at the barracks tonight, organizing border patrols. I could go to him now, demand the truth, watch his face carefully as he answered. But what if the answer unraveled everything? What if the trust I’d been clinging to vanish

The first snowfall came earlier than expected.Thick flakes drifted from the sky like forgotten feathers, clinging to tree branches and blanketing the pack grounds in silence. Every sound felt muffled, every breath drawn in colder than the last. It was the kind of silence that warned of storms hiding behind beauty.I stood at the window of the healer’s cabin, hands pressed against my swollen belly, watching the world change color outside. The snow softened everything except the truth.Lyra’s attack had divided the pack further. Fear spread like wildfire. One side whispered that Kael’s bloodline had been cursed, that two unborn heirs were a sign of weakness. The other side believed the children represented strength, a new chapter in the pack’s legacy. But whispers, no matter how quiet, could still carve walls between people.Kael came and went more often now. His nights were shorter, his words fewer, but the weight in his eyes grew with every hour. I didn’t ask what he was doing during

Morning came soft and golden, as if the storm had never touched the land. The snow that had once blanketed the forest now melted into slush, revealing the wounded earth beneath. But inside the Alpha’s den, the echoes of that brutal night remained etched into the walls, woven into the silence. Kael stood near the window, cradling our son in his arms. The child had his father’s eyes dark, deep, searching and the same wildness Kael had tried so long to bury. His tiny hand curled around Kael’s finger, and for the first time in weeks, I saw peace in the Alpha’s face. Not joy. Not pride. Peace. Lyra lay in the chamber next door, recovering. Her daughter slept beside her, swaddled in a wool blanket, unaware of the storm that had raged on the night she entered the world. A child born of power, conceived in heartbreak, and yet still innocent. The den was quiet. Not just from exhaustion, but from reflection. The battle had changed everything. The rogues had fled at sunrise. What they had