Chapter 5 – The Story of the Mother Tree

Irene

The bonfire burns high in the center of the clearing, throwing golden light across faces that watch me with open disbelief. I look around. No tents or barracks—this is no military camp. Around the fire, I glimpse houses built of timber and stone, their walls strong, their roofs pitched against the mountain winds. It’s a pack, thriving in the depths of the forest, where I never thought one could exist.

I sit wrapped in Elias’s cloak, warmth sinking into bones still bruised. Rowan crouches close, restless energy humming under his skin, while Cassian stands tall behind him, a shadow carved of stone. The others—men of every age—circle us, their gazes heavy.

“You wanted truth,” Cassian says at last. His voice cuts through the night. “Then you’ll have it. But don’t expect it to be gentle.”

Rowan smirks, tossing a twig into the fire. “Nothing here ever is.”

Elias leans forward, his eyes steady on mine. “A hundred years ago, our world was different. We had women. We had mates. Families.”

My breath catches. “Had? What happened?”

Cassian’s jaw tightens. “Arrogance. Wolves rejected their bonds. Played games with the Goddess’s gift. Treated mates like burdens.”

Rowan’s grin fades. “The Moon Goddess doesn’t forgive. She took them. One by one, women disappeared. At first fewer daughters were born. Then none at all. Until there was only us.”

The fire spits, a log splitting in the flames. The silence that follows weighs heavier than any chain.

My heart hammers. “Then how—how are there still children?”

“The Mother Tree,” Elias says softly. “At the center of the forest. It bears fruits , and from its fruits, sons are born.”

I blink, the words strange on my tongue. “Children come from a tree?”

Rowan shrugs. “Mock it if you want, but without it, there would be no packs left.”

“I’m not mocking.” I clutch the cloak tighter. “I just don’t understand.”

Cassian’s gaze pins me in place. “None of us do. We only know that our lifespans shrink with every generation. Most don’t live past forty-five. Without mates, without balance, wolves lose their minds. Rage consumes them.”

A shiver runs down my spine. “So you… turn on each other?”

Rowan’s eyes gleam in the firelight. “Sometimes. Unless we find… other ways.”

Elias shoots him a warning glance. “Enough, Rowan.” His voice softens when he looks back at me. “What matters is that you being here changes everything. You are proof the Goddess hasn’t forgotten us.”

“Me?” My voice is a whisper.

Cassian nods once, heavy as a verdict. “You’re hope.”

Hope. The word scrapes against old wounds, cutting deep. Yesterday I was less than dirt—an Omega whipped almost to death and thrown in a basement. Now they call me hope.

Tears burn the back of my eyes. “Don’t say that. I’m not a miracle. I’m nothing.”

“You’re the only woman alive,” Rowan says bluntly. “That makes you everything.”

When the fire dies low, they take me to the pack house. It’s larger than the others, warm light spilling from tall windows. Inside, the air smells of woodsmoke and bread. The halls are wide, voices low, the weight of command clear in every detail.

A tall, beautiful man, a total contrast of the brothers, with green eyes and blonde short hair, greets me. “Hi, i am beta Kevin. Welcome “, he says and motions us to follow him upstairs.

At the top of the stairs,a long hall stretches with six, maybe seven doors. They open a door from the middle and we enter . My breath catches.

The room is enormous, filled with golden firelight. A painting sits on the far wall, soft rugs lie across polished wood, and against one side sits a bed so massive it could fit ten. Thick quilts spill across it, pillows stacked high, with silk sheets spread over the frame.

“I can’t stay here,” I whisper. “This is… too much.”

Elias smiles faintly, already moving to stoke the fire. “It’s yours now.”

Cassian’s voice is firmer. “You’ll sleep here. You’ll be safe here.”

Rowan lounges against the doorframe, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Don’t argue. No one’s kicking you out of a bed tonight. Might be a first, huh?”

Heat floods my face, but the corner of my mouth almost twitches despite myself.

They leave me bread and broth, and I eat until my stomach aches, tears slipping down my cheeks as warmth spreads where hunger used to claw. For the first time in longer than I can remember, I go to sleep without fear. Without hunger gnawing at me. Without the phantom burn of kicks and fists driving me into the dirt.

I fall asleep but i am restless, dark images surround me, screams and tears and blood streaming from everywhere . A strangled scream leaves my mouth as i wake up, sweat dripping from my hair.

A strange warmth is touching me, and i try to look around.

Cassian’s arm lies heavy across my waist, his body a wall of heat at my back. Rowan sprawls across the other side of the bed, one leg tangled with mine, his hair falling across his brow. Elias is closest, his chest rising steady, his breath warm against my temple.

At the foot of the bed lies Kevin. He’s stretched out like a guard dog, one arm flung over my leg, as if he fell asleep keeping watch.

I freeze, hardly daring to breathe. Four pairs of eyes are watching me with worry.

Cassian’s hand tightens at my waist. “You cried out. What did you see?”

Rowan pushes up on his elbow, eyes sharp but softening when he meets mine. “Tell me who hurt you, Irene. I’ll kill them.”

Elias brushes damp hair from my temple, his voice a balm. “You’re safe now. No one will touch you here.”

Kevin sits up at the foot of the bed, worry etched across his face. “Do you need water? Food? Anything at all?”

Their voices crowd around me, gentle and insistent, and , I feel… cherished.