LOGINDavie's Pov
Her skin was flawless and even when her eyes were shut closed, her beauty was overboards. Her eyelashes and pointed nose made my wolf dangle, her lips were more alluring and I almost leaned down to kiss her. I have never seen anyone as beautiful as her. Her beauty made my heart melt and it moved me in a way that was hard to explain that she was a wolf. Her beauty radiated like that of a mermaid. But then, she was a werewolf, a species different from mine and it made it difficult for me to believe I was mated to her. I couldn't hold myself back from pulling her into a hug and I did. Her soft skin melted to my bare core and a soft groan came out of me. How could we have this huge connection? We were mated but it was as if meeting her was adding something I've long lost inside of me. She completes me, especially after the steaming night together. I waited patiently for her to wake up. She was an Omega, I could sense it and there was one thing I still didn't want to believe was inside of her. I could sense a life living in her. She was pregnant. It couldn't be that fast, right? And if the child wasn't mine, then who was it? Has she been having an affair with someone else since she couldn't find me, her mate? Have we found each other too late that she couldn't wait and had to wait for someone else? I was confused as well agitated. Nevertheless, that wasn't stopping me from making her mine. I care not if she had another life in her, all I care about was to have her as mine. She had filled me up and letting her go was letting something that had made me feel fulfilled leave which was going to be difficult for me to do. I watched her breathe steadily while wrapped under my arms, thinking of how she had ended up in the woods all alone with her bags. Was she running away from her pack? If so, why? It was when the sun rose in the east that her hands began to move a bit. I still waited till her eyes opened up and she tried to loosen herself from my grip which I let her succeed in doing while I helped her slowly to a sitting position. As soon as her sleep was off her face, she swirled her head around to face me and moved backward, wearing a scared expression on her countenance. I had to voice out, "Come, give me your hand." I stretched mine forward to her but the look on her face described how reluctant to face me. There was this fear etched on her face. I sighed as I had no choice but to come clean with my identity. "You don't have to be afraid. I'm a Lycan but I won't hurt you. Not when I know you're my mate," I assured her but she was still adamant. We both stared deeply at each other while I was calm for her to say a word but nothing was coming from her. She just sat there looking at me. When the waiting was too much, I decided to do the talking, definitely she would let out something. I started, "You should have known now that I am your mate and I am glad to tell you that I accept you no matter who you are. I'm never going to harm or cause you any danger because I've found you to be part of my life. I'm going to protect you and keep you, most especially our child. Yes, I know you're_" " Child? How is that possible?” she asked, looking confused. “ You must have known I am not a werewolf. I am a special breed of Lycans and I have the ability to smell a life even if it's just a minute old," I said, staring at her. Seeing how shaken she was on my identity as a Lycan, I couldn't bring myself to let her know I was also an hybrid. A special kind of hybrid. I was scared of losing her... But right now, at the mention of the child, she looked confused, too confused. Could it be that I was right? Could it be that the child was not mine? Unfortunately, I can't determine the actual time of pregnancy. I could only smell the new life when I woke up. "I can't be with you," she suddenly voiced out as expected, her voice added cheer to the most dreary part of me. I shook my head, "You can. You're my mate and you are carrying my child_" "Stop the thing of me being your mate! I'm your mate doesn't mean I want to be with you! And how the fuck do you know the child is yours?” She snapped, sounding even more agitated. " I don't care…" “ Please, stop! You can as well stop pretending and reject me!" She snapped again and tried to raise herself from the ground but she stumbled against my leg and came crumbling on my body again. I held her tight to myself, not wanting her to stand up again while I continued to promise her to give her a change of heart. "You need to be calm and listen to me. I'm Davies and I am a Lycan but that doesn't change the fact that we're mates…" I paused when she choked on her tears. Instantly, I raised her up and held her to face me only to see she was already dropping tears. "I'm not ready to be your mate," she said with so much sadness written over her face. She continued before I could even say a word. "I'm running from home and I'm pregnant with a child after being f*ucked by my mates. I am pregnant with another man's child! How possible is it for you to accept me?" She inquired.Third Person POVThe sun rose over the pack territory like a molten crown, spilling golden light across the dense forest and the sprawling pack house below. Birds chirped as if they were celebrating the rare tranquility that had finally settled over the pack.The breeze carried the scent of pine and earth, mingling with the faint tang of wolf musk from the pack grounds. Alpha Gregory stood on the balcony, arms crossed, surveying the grounds with the sharp intensity that had earned him respect and fear among the pack members. Beside him, Stephanie adjusted the folds of her gown, her eyes scanning the horizon with a quiet sense of vigilance.It had been months since the chaos and yet the remnants of those days lingered in the air, in the way the trees whispered when the wind passed and in the silent glances exchanged by pack members. Gregory’s shoulders relaxed slightly as he glanced at Stephanie, his golden eyes softening.“You’re quieter than usual,” he remarked, his voice low but
Stephanie’s POVThe first time I noticed it, I thought it was a trick of the light. A shadow, a smudge, anything but what it truly was.I stood in front of the mirror in my chamber, the morning sun spilling in through the window and brushing over my skin. Pursing my lips, I tilted my head, pushing my hair aside and exposing the curve of my neck where Davies’ mark used to burn like a brand. Before now, it was always warm, pulsing, and alive. But now, it was faint and barely visible.It was now a ghost of what it once was.My breath hitched as I leaned closer to the mirror, my fingertips brushing the fading symbol.“No,” I whispered. “No, no, no…”It wasn’t supposed to disappear but yet, the reddish gold pattern that once glowed beneath my skin was dissolving like sand swept away by the tide.My knees weakened and I pressed a palm to the dresser to steady myself so I wouldn’t fall. “He’s really leaving me,” I murmured, the words thick on my tongue. “He’s really gone.” I gasped, grab
Davies’ POVI never realized silence could feel this loud.The battlefield had already been cleared, the scent of burned magic and spilled blood fading into the chill of the late evening air. Wolves were tending to their wounded. The dragons circling above had begun their slow descent back to their mountains. While all these were going on, the last remnants of the Seekers were being dragged away in chains.But none of that mattered. They were not compared to the weight in my chest nor was it compared to the small boy clutching my arm.My son, my blood, my heir.He was the only warmth cutting through the freezing hollowness inside me.Stephanie stood a few feet away. She was holding Gregory’s surviving twin, her other son. Her hair was tangled, her face bruised in places, dust and soot marking the lines beside her eyes. We were all battered and exhausted but she was radiant to me, in a way she should not have been because she was not mine to keep.I swallowed hard, trying to keep
Third-person POVThe black sun of the ritual day rose like a bruise in the sky.Clouds churned in unnatural spirals above the Seekers’ fortress, thick with magic as the air trembled with the pressure of a spell that had taken decades to perfect. The ground itself hummed, low, eerie and vibrating like the slow pulse of a dying beast. The scent of sulfur and burnt herbs drifted through the battlefield, where hundreds of hooded Seekers moved in coordinated circles around their towering stone altar.On it lay the child.Davies’ son, small and still, was bound by glowing sigils that clung to his skin like living scars.The elderly Seeker, who was wearing a black robe, stood at the peak of the ritual platform with his palms raised. His voice rumbled beneath his breath, dark incantations twisting through the air like serpents.“Prepare the vessel,” he commanded. Hidden beyond the ridge, the allied armies of dragons, lycans and wolves watched.In the forefront stood Davies, breathing like
Third-Person POVThe forest trembled under the weight of war.Night had long surrendered to dawn and dawn had surrendered to dusk, yet the fighting persisted. It was endless, merciless and unrelenting. For three days and three nights, the alliance of wolves, dragons, and loyal warriors carved through the Seeker’s labyrinth of traps and illusions.The air was thick with smoke and old magic; the earth pulsed with the residue of dark spells. Every inch of terrain was a battlefield and at the center of that storm was Davies fighting with a desperation that bordered on feral.His dragon fire scorched through the night sky, lighting up the Seeker’s compound like a broken constellation. He moved with a singular purpose, cutting down enemies with brutal precision. But there was a wildness in his eyes that was untamed, wounded and frantic.His son was still missing.No one had to ask what that meant to him. It was etched into every movement he made.Beside him, Gregory fought like a shadow
Davies’ POV The first thing I noticed when consciousness clawed its way back into me was the cold. It was not the kind that bites at skin or rattles bones, this one was stale, and heavy. It felt like the kind of cold that lived inside the walls, a cold that whispered that hope had no business here. My wrists burned with chains that were not ordinary. I could feel the faint prickle of spell-metal, an alloy forged with ground obsidian, raven bone, and cursed blood. The chain was used by witches or Seekers. My jaw tightened at the word; Seekers. Because it meant everything I feared was already in motion. I lifted my head, my vision adjusting to the dim, flickering torchlight. The room was wide, circular, and carved out of what looked like black stone. Old symbols were etched along the walls making every instinct inside me growl in warning. Then I heard it, a soft whimper that made my heart nearly split open. “Ryder,” I whispered. My son lay curled on the ground a few meters







