Chapter 3
Mother’s Confession POV: Adelina McKenna Two nights before I left for AspenColumbus, Ohio
The diner closed early that night. A power outage had shut down half the grid, and the manager didn’t want to risk food spoilage or cranky customers. I didn’t complain I was exhausted, sore, and more confused than I’d ever been in my life. Because that day, I’d felt… wrong. Hot, cold, jittery. Like my skin didn’t fit. Like something was scraping to get out from the inside. Now I know it was my wolf. But back then? I thought I had a fever or the flu or maybe something worse. I even googled “sudden panic attacks” on my break, trying not to cry while flipping greasy fries on the grill. I walked home under a sky bruised purple with storm clouds, clutching a tote bag filled with my sweaty uniform, a bottle of dollar-store orange juice, and three slices of pie the waitress had boxed up for my mom. My mom, Laura McKenna, was waiting on the porch when I got there barefoot, arms folded tight across her chest, her gaze locked on the treetops like she expected something to leap out. The porch light cast halos around her auburn curls. A half-burnt cigarette dangled between her fingers, forgotten. “Hey,” I said softly. She startled like I’d slapped her, then exhaled hard. “Jesus, Addie.” Her voice trembled. “You scared the hell out of me.” I stepped closer, studying her face. “You okay?” “No,” she said flatly. “But I need you to come inside.” That was the first warning. My mom never made demands. She was soft-spoken, artsy, a bit too gentle for the world. She cried during commercials and once adopted a squirrel because it fell out of a tree. She never raised her voice, never cursed. But tonight? Her voice was sharp. Tense. And when I followed her inside, she locked the door behind us and pulled the curtains shut like we were hiding from the feds. I dropped my bag on the kitchen chair. “Okay, what’s going on?” She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she walked to the pantry and pulled out a small wooden box the kind she usually kept old jewelry in. She carried it to the table like it weighed fifty pounds, then sat across from me with a sigh that didn’t sound like her either. “I was hoping we’d have more time,” she whispered. “But I think… I think it’s starting.” “What’s starting?” She slid the box across the table. “Open it.”Inside were folded papers, photographs, and a thick iron pendant shaped like a crescent moon with strange etchings along the edges.
My breath caught. I picked up one of the papers and unfolded it. It wasn’t in English. The script was ancient swirling and carved with what looked like claw marks through the ink. Another paper was a birth certificate with my name. But the father’s name was blacked out. And the photographs… My heart slammed against my ribs. A woman who looked just like me taller, regal, with eyes like silver glass stood between two men in wolf leathers. She wore the pendant I now held in my hand. “Mom… what is this?” She took a shaky breath and reached for my hands. “I’ve lied to you, Addie.” I blinked. “Your father wasn’t some drifter who vanished before you were born. He didn’t die in a car accident. He wasn’t ” she paused, her voice catching. “He wasn’t human.” I froze. “What?” She nodded slowly, eyes brimming with tears. “You’re not just a normal girl. You never were. And it’s my fault you didn’t know sooner. I wanted to protect you.” My mouth went dry. “Mom, what are you saying?” She took the pendant from my hand and held it up to the light. “Your father was a werewolf,” she said. “And not just any werewolf. He was a Bloodborne. One of the Moon Matron’s sworn one of the last of their line.” I stared at her. Then laughed. It was sharp and panicked and very, very fake. “No,” I said. “No. That’s not this isn’t real.” “Addie ” “You expect me to believe you slept with some mythical wolf warrior and just decided to keep it a secret for twenty-five years?” She didn’t flinch. “Yes.” “You’re serious.” “Dead serious.” I stood, pacing. My legs felt weak. She followed me with her eyes. “I loved him,” she said, so quietly I almost missed it. “He wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t wild or violent. He was kind. Gentle. He protected people. He saved me when I was attacked outside of Asheville—back when I was in school. And when I found out I was pregnant… he was gone. Taken. Vanished. His pack never answered me. I tried to warn them, to ask them what would happen if you inherited his blood.” Her voice cracked. “They never responded.” I collapsed into a chair. The words made sense but they didn’t. Because they couldn’t. Because if they did, it meant everything I thought I knew about myself was a lie. “Why now?” I asked. “Why are you telling me now?” She swallowed. “Because your scent is changing. Because I woke up this morning and I smelled your wolf.” I stared at her. “You knew?” “I always knew it was possible,” she said. “But I thought… maybe if I kept you away from it kept you safe you’d never shift. You’d be human. You’d have a normal life.” I clenched my fists. “I shifted last night,” I whispered. She inhaled sharply. “I was alone,” I added. “I almost died.” Tears spilled from her eyes. “I’m so sorry.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” I yelled. “Why did you let me grow up thinking I was crazy when I felt things?When I saw things? Why did you lie to me?”
“Because I was scared,” she choked. “Because I didn’t know if I’d survive losing you like I lost him.”##Chapter 046 ##The Pledge of the MotherThe Hollow Den breathed around me like a living creature. Every drip of water sliding down its stone walls, every flicker of moonlight through cracks above, seemed amplified inside my chest. After the marks had seared across my abdomen, after the Matrons had spoken with voices both blessing and curse, I believed nothing else could shake me.I was wrong.As silence stretched, Oya’s gaze weighed on me—not just her eyes, but the ghosts of all the women before me she seemed to carry in them. And in that moment, the truth struck. There was no going back.The line was broken. And I was its last thread.The child inside me shifted. At first only a flutter—so faint I thought I’d imagined it. Then again, stronger. A thrum beneath my hand. Not instinct, not heat. Life. Real.I sank to the cold stone, palm pressed to the faintly glowing marks on my belly. My throat closed, eyes stung, and this time I didn’t fight it. Tears slid hot down my cheeks as word
##Chapter 045##Marked by MoonlightThe night pressed heavy over the Hollow Den, a silence so absolute that every breath sounded like a betrayal. After the shadows we heard in the depths, Oya had set wards at every entrance and whispered prayers in a tongue that rasped like gravel. She told me to rest, but I couldn’t. My body was restless, my mind in constant churn, and my stomach—always twisting, always reminding me of the life growing inside.I sat near the entrance of the den, where the moonlight poured through a ragged split in the stone ceiling, painting the ground with pale silver. I thought it might calm me, but instead, the light seemed to hum against my skin, almost alive.And then I felt it.A warmth, deep in my core, blooming outward. At first I thought it was another wave of nausea. But this was different—tingling, sharp, pulsing in rhythm with my heartbeat. I looked down instinctively, pulling the hem of my shirt aside.And froze.Faint silver lines glowed just beneath my
##Chapter 044##The Weight of BloodThe Hollow Den was silent after the howls faded into the distance. Too silent. The kind of silence that pressed against my skull until my own heartbeat sounded like a war drum. I hadn’t slept. Not truly. Every time I closed my eyes, the darkness coiled around me like a living thing, dredging up half-formed dreams that left my skin damp and my nerves stretched taut.By dawn, my body felt heavy, leaden, as though I had carried someone else’s burden all night long. My stomach churned again—not the first time lately—and I pressed a hand against it instinctively. The gesture was automatic, unthinking, but my mind recoiled from the thought behind it.Pregnant.The word was a stone lodged in my throat. Mama Oya had spoken it aloud once already, her voice a sharp blade that cut too close to truth, but I hadn’t repeated it. To give it breath would be to make it real, and I wasn’t ready for reality. Not yet.“You’re pale.”Her voice sliced through the cavern’
##Chapter 043##Moon BloodThe air inside Mama Oya’s den was thick with herbs, smoke, and something older—something that seemed to hum beneath my skin. The Appalachian night pressed close outside, the forest alive with cicadas and the distant howl of wolves, but here in this place, I felt as though the earth itself was holding its breath.Mama Oya stood in front of me, her aged hands moving with careful precision as she set bowls of dried sage, rosemary, and powdered roots onto the low wooden table. Her hair—black streaked with silver—fell in waves past her shoulders, and her eyes… they pierced. Always, they pierced.“You’ve been restless,” she said, her voice carrying the weight of centuries though it was barely above a whisper. “Your blood sings different than it did before.”My fingers curled against my thighs. I had told myself I wasn’t going to break down here, not in front of this woman who seemed to see everything I fought to hide. But the truth clung to me like a shadow I coul
##Chapter 0041##Echoes of MatronSleep came to me that night like an ambush. One moment I was lying awake in Mama Oya’s den, staring at the ceiling beams while the embers of the fire crackled low, and the next the weight of exhaustion dragged me under.But it wasn’t the kind of sleep that soothed. It was heavy, cloying, pulling me into something deeper.The world around me dissolved into silver light. My body felt weightless, and yet when I looked down at my hands, they weren’t mine. Pale fingers tipped with claws glimmered in moonlight. A chill swept over me as I realized—this was no ordinary dream.The air shifted, and suddenly I was standing in a vast clearing. The forest was familiar, yet wrong—trees taller than cathedrals, shadows that seemed to move on their own. Above, the moon blazed impossibly large, painting the world in stark white and deepest black.And then I saw her.A woman stood at the center of the clearing, her back to me. Her long hair tumbled in waves down her bac
Chapter 041–Alpha by RightThe stone chamber was cold against my bare feet, but I barely felt it. My skin burned with the echo of Mama Oya’s funeral pyre, the grief still raw, my heart a wound left open to the mountain winds. The rogues and outcasts who had followed me this far were gathered in a half circle, watching, their eyes sharp with expectation.Expectation and fear.I could hear it in the tremor of their breaths, smell it rolling off them like iron and frost. They had lost before. They had followed others before. Every Alpha who had risen against the established packs had eventually fallen. Some were crushed by the Council. Some were betrayed from within. Most were simply too weak to hold together wolves who had been broken by rejection, exile, and pain.And now all those shattered pieces had gathered here, staring at me.The Matron’s Crest sat on the pedestal before me—an ancient stone disc etched with curling runes and the faint shimmer of moonlight carved into its veins. I