“Why does my son carry another pack’s mark!!." Jaxon yelled, holding our child like it was a piece of dirt or a curse itself. I was still shaking on the bed, sweat on my skin, blood between my legs, my body burning and aching after hours of pain. The pack midwives were still around me, one holding my shoulders, while others were whispering, knowing this was all bad. I was tired. I was weak. But the moment Jaxon screamed, everything inside me went cold.I turned my head slowly.“My son?” I whispered. “Jaxon, what are you.." He was standing near the fire pit, the baby in his arms. My baby. Our baby. His face, which had been full of joy just moments ago, was now twisted with rage. His hands were shaking.The room went silent.The midwives froze.The baby cried, a soft weak sound, like he already knew something was wrong with this world.Jaxon lifted the baby’s tiny arm.There it was.The mark.A dark crescent, shaped like a claw wrapped around a wolf skull. The mark of the Grim Wolf
Última actualización : 2026-02-10 Leer más