The day Kael returned to the heart of the pack with blood on his hands and rage in his eyes, the village felt it like a tremor underfoot. The rogue attack had shaken every foundation, homes, loyalty, his position as Alpha and though he stood tall, there was a crack in his armor no one dared mention. Except me.
He stepped into the healer's house, his scent thick with ash and blood. I sat by the fire, a blanket over my legs, cradling the growing curve of my belly. My fingers traced absent circles over the fabric. I didn't look up.
"You're hurt," I said flatly.
"It's not mine," he answered, breath still shallow from the run.
I finally turned to face him. His eyes locked onto mine. Shadows lined the skin beneath them. His wolf, always near the surface, stirred behind those golden irises.
"They're hunting in pairs now," he said, stripping off his ruined coat. "Coordinated. Smarter than before."
"They're testing your limits."
He knelt in front of me, gaze drawn to the bump under my hand. "They're trying to tear us apart. From the inside first."
"Do you think they know?"
His jaw clenched. "About the baby? About you? Yes."
I didn't flinch. I'd felt their presence in my dreams for weeks, eyes watching from the woods, whispers curling under window sills, the weight of a threat too large to name.
"You need to move me somewhere safer."
Kael shook his head. "You are the safest here. With me."
I stared at him, unsure whether to trust that promise. I had once believed no one could reach me under his protection. Until Selene had strolled into the pack house with her perfect hair and poisoned smile, and Kael had shifted his heart toward her like a flower leaning into sunlight.
"Do they still speak her name?" I asked quietly.
He froze.
"They do," I answered myself. "When they think I can't hear. They still call her Luna."
"She's gone."
"But her ghost lingers."
He reached for my hand. I let him take it.
"Selene's gone," he repeated. "And I'm still here. With you. Every night, every day, every fight."
"Then stop making me feel like I'm standing in her shadow."
Kael took me outside for the first time since the attack. The sun barely pierced the thick clouds above, but the air was crisp and carried the scent of pine and frost.
Children darted past, laughing despite everything. Wolves patrolled in human form, eyes sharp, weapons close. The healer's house sat close to the eastern edge of the village, shielded by trees, but not far from the stone hall where the council met.
"Are you bringing me here for a reason?" I asked as we passed the elder tree.
Kael glanced at me. "They want to meet with us."
"Both of us?"
He nodded.
"What changed?"
"They know now," he said. "The baby, our bond, everything. Some accept it. Others… don't."
A cold wind slipped under my coat.
"They want proof of your loyalty," I guessed.
"They want to see your worth," he corrected. "Because you carry the next Alpha."
We entered the stone hall. The air inside was dense, filled with age and power. Four elders sat in high-backed chairs, robes the color of smoke.
I stood tall, even as tension coiled around my spine.
"You carry the Alpha's heir," the oldest woman said, eyes like fogged glass. "Yet you wear no mark."
"She bears my scent," Kael said. "That should be enough."
"It is not."
I raised my chin. "You want a mark?"
"Yes."
"Then ask him why he never gave me one."
Kael flinched, but said nothing.
The elder leaned forward. "Why did you return, girl?"
"I never left."
She studied me.
"Your strength will be tested. The child's fate is bound to the bloodline. We protect our future by ensuring only the strongest survive."
"You're threatening me?"
"We're warning you."
Kael's voice darkened. "That's enough."
Another elder spoke. "You must undergo the Rite. She must be tested."
Kael moved forward. "She is carrying my child. She won't fight."
"She won't fight physically," the woman replied. "But the Rite is not always of blade and claw."
"What then?"
The answer came like a whisper of doom.
"Memory. Pain. Truth."
That night, Kael didn't sleep.
He sat by the fire, his hand wrapped around mine, thumb tracing the line of my palm.
"I won't let them break you," he said.
"You don't control the Rite."
"I control what they do after."
I looked at him. "Do you believe I'm strong enough?"
His eyes flicked to my belly.
"You've already endured more than any Luna I've known. You're still standing. That's strength."
The Rite began at dawn.
Kael wasn't allowed inside.
I stood barefoot in the sacred cave, the walls etched with symbols older than language. The elders stood in a circle, their chants weaving thick around me.
The fog came first thick, gray, full of whispers.
I felt myself pulled under.
And then I was there.
Back in the pack house.
Selene stood in front of me, her hand in Kael's. They laughed.
He turned, saw me, and let go of her hand.
He walked to me slowly, his face unreadable.
"Why are you here?" he asked.
"Because I love you."
He stepped back.
"I never asked you to."
I reached for him. He disappeared.
Darkness rushed in.
Next, I was alone in the forest, bleeding.
The baby inside me was still.
I screamed, the sound echoing through the trees.
No one came.
No one ever came.
I fell to my knees, crying out his name.
Kael.
Kael.
Silence.
I opened my eyes to the sound of water dripping.
I lay on the cave floor, chest heaving.
The elders stood over me, silent.
"She did not shatter," the old woman said.
"She remembered and survived," said another.
They stepped back.
"The Rite is complete."
Kael waited outside, pacing like a caged wolf.
When he saw me, he rushed forward.
"What did they do to you?"
"I saw everything."
"And?"
"I'm still here."
He pulled me into his arms, holding me tight.
"You passed," he whispered.
"No," I said. "I endured."
Later, as night fell, Kael took me to the cliffs above the river.
We sat in silence, watching the water churn below.
He pulled something from his pocket, a ring carved from dark bone, etched with runes.
"This was my mother's," he said.
"She gave it to your father?"
"No. She kept it. Until she was sure he'd earned it."
I stared at it.
"I want you to have it," Kael said.
I took it, turning it in my fingers.
"I'll wear it," I said, "when I'm ready."
He didn't protest.
Back at the healer's house, I found a note tucked under the door.
The handwriting was sharp, deliberate.
*He's lying. He always has. You're not the only one carrying his child.*
No signature.
No scent.
Just seven words that tore through me like claws.