The pain didn’t stop.
It came in waves tight, twisting, unforgiving. My hands clutched the bed frame as thunder roared above me. The storm outside mirrored the chaos inside my body. Sheets clung to my legs, soaked with sweat. My breath came short, sharp, ragged. I wasn’t ready. The baby wasn’t ready. I stumbled toward the door, vision swimming. My voice cracked through the walls as I shouted for help. No one answered. The tavern below was silent, drowned by the storm. Mira must’ve locked up early. Another cramp tore through me, worse than before. I fell to my knees, gasping. I had to move. Crawling felt like dragging chains. Every inch of progress burned. I reached the hallway, palms scraping against rough wood. Blood smeared behind me, dark and slick. Lightning cracked across the sky, flashing through the window like a warning. I didn’t care. I needed to get to the healer. To Callen. To someone. Anyone. I gritted my teeth and pushed forward. Down the stairs. Across the tavern floor. The door loomed ahead like a cliff. I reached it just as my legs gave out completely. “Please,” I whispered to no one. “Not like this…” And then the door slammed open. A figure stood in the rain. Cloaked. Tall. Dripping wet. For a moment, I thought I was hallucinating. Then the figure rushed forward, arms wrapping around me just before everything went dark. I woke to warmth. Flickering fire. The smell of herbs and ash. A heavy blanket draped over my body. I blinked at the ceiling. Rough beams. Hanging jars. A mobile made of feathers turning in slow circles. I wasn’t in the tavern. The pain had dulled. Still there but manageable. I tried to sit up, but a firm hand stopped me. “Don’t,” a voice said. Low. Steady. I turned my head. Callen stood beside the bed, sleeves rolled up, eyes shadowed with worry. “You’re lucky,” he said. “You nearly went into early labor.” My hand flew to my stomach. “The baby?” I whispered. He nodded. “Still with you. Strong heartbeat. But you need to rest.” Relief crashed through me. I exhaled shakily, eyes closing. “Who… who found me?” Callen hesitated. “She brought you here.” “She?” Before he could answer, the door creaked. And in walked the last person I expected to see. **Selene.** She looked different. Not in beauty she still moved like a storm bottled into flesh but in expression. Gone was the smirk. Gone was the sharpness. She stood near the door like she wasn’t sure if she belonged. “I was traveling,” she said before I could speak. “Got caught in the storm. I saw you crawling through the tavern doorway.” My throat tightened. “You saved me.” She nodded. Silence settled like dust between us. I didn’t thank her. Not yet. Because I needed to understand. “Why were you here?” “I’ve been staying in the rogue town for a few days,” she said, glancing toward the fire. “Not many know who I am out here. That’s the point.” I studied her face. She didn’t wear makeup. Her hair was in a loose braid. There were dark circles beneath her eyes. “You left the Crescent Moon Pack,” I said quietly. “I left Kael.” That landed like a blade. I sat up slowly. “You did what?” “He’s not mine,” she said, looking at me now. “Never was.” “Yet you stayed.” “So did you.” The words hung in the air. I looked away. “I stayed because I believed in something that never existed.” Selene stepped closer, arms crossed. “I thought being the girl the Alpha loved would make me whole. But he didn’t love me. Not truly. And I never loved him the way he needed to.” I swallowed hard. “Then why did he choose you?” “He didn’t,” she said. “He settled.” The honesty in her voice caught me off guard. “You really believe that?” “I *know* it,” she said. “Because the moment he realized you were gone, he started dying slowly.” I closed my eyes. “Kael wasn’t just grieving you,” she continued. “He was grieving his own mistake.” “Why are you telling me this?” Selene walked over, pulled a chair beside the bed, and sat. “Because I’m done pretending I won a battle I never wanted to fight.” We sat in silence. The fire cracked between us. I felt the weight of months I hadn’t spoken aloud. All the pain. The loneliness. The betrayal. She leaned forward. “I don’t expect forgiveness. I don’t want to be your friend. But you should know Kael isn’t okay. And when he finds out what nearly happened to you tonight, he’ll burn half the world to reach you.” I laughed bitterly. “Let him try.” Callen returned later and gave me a stronger tonic. “You need to stay in bed,” he said. “One more scare like this, and it could end badly.” I nodded, exhausted. Selene had gone. Left with barely a goodbye. Maybe she’d return to her old life. Maybe she’d disappear forever. Either way, I didn’t owe her anything. But for a moment, I saw the girl beneath the arrogance. A girl just as lost as I was. The next few days passed in a strange haze. I stayed in Callen’s care, too weak to move much. He checked the baby’s heartbeat every morning. The sound was like thunder underwater, strong and defiant. At night, I dreamed of Kael. Not as the Alpha. But as the boy who once kissed me beneath a waterfall and promised we’d never break. Dreams could lie. But sometimes, they whispered truths too painful to ignore. It happened on the fifth day. The storm had passed. Sunlight crept through the curtains, gold and soft. I sat up slowly, cradling my stomach, humming an old lullaby my mother used to sing. Then I felt it. Not just a kick. A pulse. Sharp. Urgent. Then a scent. Familiar. Wild. Alpha. I looked toward the door just as it opened. **Kael.** He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. He just stood there, dripping sweat, his shirt clinging to his chest, boots caked in mud. His eyes locked on mine. My breath caught. He looked like a ghost crawling back from war. He stepped into the room. One step. Two. I stayed frozen. He knelt beside the bed and reached out hesitated then let his hand rest on my stomach. I didn’t stop him. The baby kicked. His eyes shimmered. “Still mine?” he whispered. I couldn’t answer. Tears blurred my vision. He pressed his forehead to my belly. “I looked for you every night. I sent Jace. I tore through rogue borders. When I heard you almost lost the baby…” His voice cracked. I placed a hand on his shoulder. Warm. Real. “You chose her,” I said quietly. “I didn’t choose anything,” he said. “I let fear choose for me.” I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know if I could forgive him. But in that moment, I saw the truth written all over him. He had broken, too. And maybe, just maybe… He wanted to be whole again.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
The wind no longer whispered.It roared, rattled, and cracked through the trees, tearing at the snow-draped world with fury that felt personal. Storm clouds, thick and gray, hung low above the treetops, suffocating what little light the winter sun offered. The entire territory crouched in a fragile silence, as though holding its breath.Inside the Alpha’s hall, the warmth of the fire did little to soothe the tension in the air.I sat near the hearth, one hand on my stomach, the other clenched around the edge of the wooden chair. The baby moves less these days, quiet and still, as if sensing the weight that hung over our pack. My breath was shallow. Every hour that passed felt like a countdown.Kael hadn’t returned from the border patrol.Lyra sat across from me, her long dark braid resting over her shoulder. Her hands, too, were on her stomach growing larger every week, mirroring mine. She looked different now. Older, not in age, but in the way women age when war hovers close.“We nee
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
The air was thick with tension when I stepped into the main hall. The elders were gathering early, and that never meant anything good. I could feel it in the silence between whispers, in the way shoulders tensed and backs straightened the moment I entered. Lyra was there, standing at the far end, her hands folded tightly in front of her, gaze fixed on the floor.Kael stood near the head of the table, his jaw tight, eyes unreadable. When our gazes met, something flickered across his face, regret, maybe. Or guilt. It didn’t matter.Elder Marra motioned for everyone to sit.“The wind carries rumors,” she began. “And where rumors live, truth is often buried beneath fear.”No one spoke.Kael took a breath and stepped forward.“There are things I should have told you sooner,” he said. “About the child. About what happened before the Rite.”The silence grew heavier. Even the creak of the wooden beams above seemed to hush.“I made a mistake,” he said. “One I won’t deny. One that has consequen
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 day Kael returned to the heart of the pack with blood on his hands and rage in his eyes, the village felt it like a tremor underfoot. The rogue attack had shaken every foundation, homes, loyalty, his position as Alpha and though he stood tall, there was a crack in his armor no one dared mention. Except me.He stepped into the healer’s house, his scent thick with ash and blood. I sat by the fire, a blanket over my legs, cradling the growing curve of my belly. My fingers traced absent circles over the fabric. I didn’t look up.“You’re hurt,” I said flatly.“It’s not mine,” he answered, breath still shallow from the run.I finally turned to face him. His eyes locked onto mine. Shadows lined the skin beneath them. His wolf, always near the surface, stirred behind those golden irises.“They’re hunting in pairs now,” he said, stripping off his ruined coat. “Coordinated. Smarter than before.”“They’re testing your limits.”He knelt in front of me, gaze drawn to the bump under my hand. “T