Semua Bab Running Away with Alpha's Baby Bump: Bab 41 - Bab 50

( Kael's POV ) The world tilted sideways. Kael’s skull rang like a struck bell as he forced his eyes open. Cold air scraped down his throat, thick with fog and magic. The clearing spun slowly, shadows bending like water, the ancient stones humming with a rhythm that made his bones ache. Somewhere above, the moon bled through the mist like a dying lantern. And in the center of it all, Aria. She hung suspended a few feet above the cracked ground, her body limp but her eyes wide open. Light poured from the runes carved across her skin, rivers of silver fire snaking outward, filling the stone circle with a glow that pulsed in time with her heartbeat. Kael tried to move. His body screamed in protest. Something in his ribs felt broken, but pain was a distant second to the panic flooding through him. “Aria,” he rasped. The shadow coiled tighter around her. It wasn’t shapeless anymore. It had a form now, long, lean, a crown of twisted antlers rising from its head like black bone.

(Aria's POV ) The wind changed first. It slithered into the Hollow like a whisper, carrying the scent of something sharp and metallic, like blood before a storm. Kael felt it before anyone spoke, the wolf inside him going still, ears pricking. Outside, the forest groaned. Jarek looked up from his post at the entrance. “You feel that?” Kael’s gaze cut toward the mouth of the cave. “Yeah.” Mira tightened the straps on her armor. “It’s here.” “It” didn’t need a name. The shadow had no shape that could be captured by a single word. But the pack felt it like a second heartbeat in the ground, like the forest itself was holding its breath. Behind him, Aria stirred. Kael turned immediately. She was sitting upright now, one hand pressed to the stone for balance, the other to her stomach. Her breathing was quick, shallow and uneven. Silver still flickered beneath her skin, but there was something else too. A tightness in her shoulders. A tremor in her lips. Pain. Kael was

( Kael's POV ) The first breath of dawn bled slowly through the forest canopy, brushing pale gold against the blackened trunks. Mist curled like smoke through the clearing outside the Hollow, softening nothing, only shrouding what had already been broken. Kael moved through the remnants of the night’s battle with a silence that felt carved rather than chosen. Wolves from the pack knelt beside the fallen, wrapping bodies in linen stitched with thread soaked in wolfsbane and ash. A ritual. A promise. The dead would not rise where shadow had touched them. Storm stirred in Aria’s arms, a soft sound too fragile for the world that waited beyond these trees. Kael’s gaze found his son without effort, pulled like a tide. That single, small heartbeat had already shifted the world around them. He could feel it beneath his skin, the pulse of the forest wasn’t just listening anymore. It was circling. “Kael.” Jarek’s voice cut through the mist. He stood at the treeline, blood seeping throu

Kael’s POV The Hollow had never been quiet, not truly. Even in sleep, it murmured. Wind slithered through the high pines, the river below whispered against the black stones, and somewhere in the dark, something always moved. Tonight, though, the forest held its breath. Kael stood at the threshold of the longhouse, every muscle coiled beneath his shirt. The boy in his arms shifted against his chest, small, warm, and wholly human. His son. Storm. Four months old, and already capable of silencing a room without a sound. His fingers curled in Kael’s collar, trusting without knowing, and that trust felt heavier than the world outside. “Kael.” Jarek’s voice came from behind, low and rough. The Beta stepped out of the shadows, rain still dripping from his coat, eyes sharp as ever. “The scent isn’t fading. Whatever slithered into these woods didn’t turn back.” Kael’s gaze cut toward the tree line. “I know.” They didn’t have to say it. The air itself was wrong and thick, thrumming with s

(Aria's POV ) The Hollow was quiet, but it wasn’t peace. The silence after the creature’s disappearance pressed down like a weight. The longhouse still smelled of smoke and iron. Wolves moved in hushed urgency outside, gathering what was left of the night, but no one dared enter. The storm might have passed, but its echo lingered in the walls, in their bones. Kael stood near the hearth, or what was left of it, hands braced on his thighs, blood still dripping sluggishly from the gash along his ribs. The firelight painted his wolf-scarred skin in bronze and shadow. His breath came in rough pulls, more animal than man. Aria sat on the floor with Storm curled against her, the boy’s small chest rising and falling in deep, exhausted sleep. His mark had faded to a dull ember. Her fingers trembled as she brushed the damp hair from his forehead. Kael turned his head slightly, watching her through the curtain of his wet, matted hair. The pack would have questions. The creature would re