All Chapters of Against All Odds: Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

* Zeina *After five years.It had been five years since the bond between Cerberus and me had been forged in defiance of fate, five years since my wolf had last answered my call. I had tried, the Moon Goddess knows how I had tried, to summon her, to feel the snap of bones and the rush of fur, the freedom of running beside him under the moon. But she was silent. I was silent. And in that silence, I carried the weight of what I had chosen.Our son is six now. Archer. Our miracle. And unlike me, his wolf stirred early. Too early. His little body trembled sometimes when the moon swelled, when his blood seemed to burn with instincts that were not yet ready to be unleashed. He'd look at me then, frightened but proud, and I would smile even though inside it hurt, because what mother could guide her son into the life she had been cut away from?That morning, I stood at the edge of the clearing behind the Alpha house. The trees loomed tall, whispering secrets in the wind, and the soil was damp

* Zeina *The forest was alive tonight. I could feel it even without my wolf, every shiver of leaves, every whisper of the wind threading through the branches. Once, I would have heard it all with sharper ears, felt it in the marrow of my bones as fur split my skin and my paws carried me across the earth. But now, I only watched. I watched him, them.Cerberus ran with Archer, their bodies a rhythm of instinct and blood, father and son a blur of dark fur and laughter echoing through the trees. My heart swelled with pride at the sight of my boy, small legs pumping, his breath ragged but determined to match the stride of the Alpha beside him. The forest bent to them, the ground itself seemed eager to carry them forward.And I... stood at the edge.Archer's laughter rose, free and wild, the sound of his wolf teasing at the edges of him. I pressed a hand to my chest as if I could hold my heart in place. Because though my lips curved in a smile, the ache beneath it was sharp, cruel. I wante

* Zeina *The words lingered in me long after Archer drifted back into that fragile morning doze. Mama... you don't have a wolf. So simple. So pure. And yet it hollowed me out in places I thought had long scarred over.I smoothed my hand over his small back, feeling the faint tremors still running through him, echoes of a body too young to carry the burden of instincts awakening too soon. His heartbeat fluttered against me, quick, uncertain, but steady, alive.Alive because he had fought. Alive because he was mine.I lifted my gaze, meeting Cerberus's eyes across our son's dark curls. The man who carried me when I staggered, who bore the weight of my silence as though it were his own. And yet, I saw the storm in him too. The way his jaw was locked, his wolf bristling just beneath the surface, as if daring fate to come closer, daring the gods themselves to test him again.I wanted to tell him I was strong enough. That his vow, his endless carrying of me, wasn't what bound me here. That

* Cerberus *The hall still hummed with the echoes of their howls when Zeina led Archer down from the dais. She was fire, every line of her, burning bright enough to sear the doubt out of the pack, even if it left her scorched inside. I knew that look, chin high, shoulders squared, the shawl tight around her frame. To them, she was unshakable. To me, she was a woman holding back an ocean with her bare hands.Archer pressed close to her side, his little fingers clutched in hers. He'd stood through her speech braver than I thought his six-year-old bones could manage, but I felt his tremors when my hand brushed his back. The boy carried his wolf already like a storm in his chest, and storms were not meant for small bodies.I gathered him into my arms before Zeina could protest. He folded into me, head against my shoulder, the way he always had when the world grew too large. His heartbeat stuttered against my chest, fast, fragile, but he was still steady. Still alive. I kissed the top of

* Zeina *It happened sooner than either of us wished. We had been patient. Ten days of breath and balance, of branches unbroken, of candle flames that held steady under his storm. Ten days where Archer's laughter returned, where the boy shone brighter than the wolf. But storms do not stay caged.It was the eleventh night. The moon rose swollen and silver, painting the yard in pale fire. Archer had fallen asleep between us, his small frame tucked safe against the furs. For once, he did not whimper in dreams. For once, I thought the night might be kind. Then it struck.His body arched suddenly, a violent spasm tearing through him. His eyes snapped open, molten gold bleeding over silver. A sound ripped from his throat, not boy, not wolf, but something broken between. His little hands curled into claws, nails splitting skin."Archer."My voice caught as I grabbed for him, but he thrashed, too strong, too wild.Cerberus was already moving, pinning him gently but firmly, his arms caging ou