I woke up feeling… strange. It wasn’t the usual exhaustion from pregnancy or the occasional morning sickness. This was different. It was as if something unseen crackled in the air around me, a tingling sensation running up and down my spine. My dreams had been odd, but that wasn’t new—I had been plagued with visions ever since we returned to the pack. Shaking off the unease, I sat up and stretched. The room was quiet, sunlight filtering in through the curtains, but something felt off. I glanced around, half expecting something to be lurking in the shadows. Nothing. Just my mind playing tricks on me. "Okay, Prisca. Breathe," I muttered to myself before sliding out of bed. As I padded to the bathroom, the floorboards creaked louder than usual. The second I stepped onto the tile, the faucet turned on by itself, water gushing out forcefully as if someone had yanked it open. I froze. My pulse quickened. I hadn't touched it. Swallowing hard, I reached for the knob and twisted it
I spent the entire morning with Althea, flipping through ancient grimoires, searching desperately for a spell that could summon Esther. My hands trembled as I traced the inked symbols in an old book, my mind racing with the possibilities of what we might discover. We had been through this before, and every attempt had failed. But this time, it felt different. This time, we needed answers. The room was dimly lit, the scent of burning sage and lavender thick in the air. The candles flickered unnaturally, as if something unseen was already lurking, waiting for us to call upon it. I swallowed hard and looked at my sister. “Are you sure about this?” Althea asked, her voice steady but filled with caution. “Summoning a spirit isn’t like calling on just any entity. Esther is powerful, and she’s—” “Unpredictable?” I finished for her. Althea nodded. “To say the least.” I clenched my fists, my determination outweighing my fear. “I don’t have a choice, Althea. I need to know how to save
The moment I stepped into our bedroom, I knew something was wrong. Prisca sat on the edge of the bed, her back to me, staring out the window. The moonlight cast a soft glow on her, making her seem almost ethereal, but the tension in her shoulders gave her away. She was deep in thought, troubled. Lately, she'd been distant. At first, I chalked it up to the pregnancy—mood swings, exhaustion, the usual things that came with carrying a child. But this was different. There was something *heavier* weighing on her, something she wasn’t telling me. I had given her space, thinking maybe she just needed time to process things on her own, but time had only made it worse. I couldn’t take it anymore. I walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Prisca, what's going on?" She flinched. *Flinched.* I immediately withdrew my hand, my stomach twisting. My mate had never reacted to me like that before. She turned to face me, her expression unreadable. “Nothing, Jake. I’m just t
ALPHA JAKE I sat in my office, staring at the wall as the weight of everything threatened to crush me. My mate, my unborn child, my pack—everything was hanging by a thread, and I felt powerless. Prisca had finally told me the truth, and it shattered me in ways I couldn’t put into words. She was given an impossible choice. One where no matter what she decided, she would lose something—either our child or me. How the hell was I supposed to accept that? My fingers clenched into fists against my desk as a growl rumbled low in my chest. No. I wouldn’t accept it. Fate had already tried to take too much from me. I had lost warriors, friends, people who depended on me to lead them. But my family? That was where I drew the line. There had to be another way. I pushed back from my desk and stood, my muscles tense as I made my decision. I couldn’t sit here and wait for fate to take its course. I had to act. I walked out of my office and made my way down the dimly lit halls of the p
PRISCA’S POVI woke up with a sharp gasp, my lungs burning as if I had been holding my breath for too long. The room was still dark, and the only sound was the soft rustling of the wind outside. My body felt heavy, my limbs sluggish, and an eerie chill wrapped around me despite the warmth of the blankets. Something was wrong. I pushed myself up slowly, trying to shake off the discomfort. The feeling in the air wasn’t just cold—it was unnatural. The shadows in the corners of the room seemed darker than usual, stretching and pulsing as if they were alive. My heart pounded as I glanced toward the door, expecting something—anything—to be there. But the room was empty. Just a bad dream, I told myself. A side effect of everything weighing on me. But as I moved to stand, a voice whispered in my ear. *"You must listen."* I froze. My entire body tensed as cold dread seeped into my bones. Slowly, I turned my head toward the mirror in the corner of the room. My reflection should
The morning was peaceful, deceptively so. The kind of quiet that made my heart uneasy. The pack had been rebuilding itself from the damage done in recent months, and today felt like a fresh start—or at least I tried to convince myself of that.I sat at the large wooden table in the packhouse, sipping tea while watching Fatima and Sophie bicker about who made the better breakfast. The scent of eggs, sausage, and pancakes filled the air, and for a moment, everything felt normal. Jake was out with his warriors, reinforcing our border patrols, while Althea and I planned another round of protective spells for the territory.“Are you going to eat that or just stare at it?” Fatima asked, nudging my plate with her fork.I blinked, realizing I’d been staring at my food for too long. My appetite had been all over the place lately—some days I couldn’t eat enough, and others, I could barely stomach anything.“I’m eating, I’m eating,” I mumbled, picking up my fork and forcing a bite of eggs into m
I woke up to silence. A deafening, suffocating silence. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of candles flickering on the nightstand. My body felt heavy, drained of all energy, like I had been hollowed out from the inside. A dull ache throbbed in my stomach, but nothing compared to the unbearable emptiness clawing at my soul. Then I remembered. The pain. The blood. The agonizing screams that had torn from my throat as I begged the universe to spare him. My child. My baby. My chest heaved, but no tears came. I had cried everything out. I was nothing but an empty shell now. A movement to my right caught my attention, and I turned my head slightly. Jake sat in the chair beside my bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped together. His head was bowed, dark hair falling over his face, but even in the dim light, I could see the tension in his body. He was barely holding himself together. I swallowed hard, my voice barely above a whisper. “Jake…” His head snapped
The world felt different. Colder. Emptier. Days had passed since I lost my baby, but it felt like time had frozen. The sun still rose, but it didn’t shine the same. The wind still blew, but it didn’t carry warmth. The pack moved around me as if life continued as usual, but I couldn’t feel it. Everything had dulled, stripped of color and meaning. But the worst part of it all—the thing that made it unbearable—was Jake. He was slipping away from me. At first, I thought it was just grief. He buried himself in work, focused on rebuilding the pack, strengthening its warriors, and tightening its defenses. I understood. I did the same in my own way, throwing myself into research, looking for answers, hoping—praying—that there was still something I could do. But it wasn’t just grief. It was something more. He was changing. The first time I noticed it was during training. I stood on the edge of the training field, watching him spar with his warriors. Normally, Jake was controlle
The ballroom was alive with music and laughter, a stark contrast to the heaviness that had lingered over the pack these past few weeks. Fatima had outdone herself, organizing this ball to remind everyone that joy still had a place in our lives.Dressed in a flowing emerald-green gown, I swayed gently in Jake’s arms as we moved across the dance floor. The light in his eyes, the way his fingers traced soothing circles on my back, made me forget—if only for a moment—that our world was still in pieces.“See?” he murmured. “A night without doom and gloom. Feels nice, doesn’t it?”I smiled up at him. “It does.”He twirled me, and for a second, I felt weightless. Then it hit me.A sharp, piercing sensation in my skull.I stumbled, the room tilting violently.Jake’s grip tightened. “Prisca?”I couldn’t answer. The pain spread like wildfire, and suddenly, the music and chatter faded into the background. My legs buckled, and I was falling.Darkness swallowed me whole.And then… I wasn’t in the
The weight of what I had just seen clung to me like a second skin. Even as I sat on the edge of the bed, back in the safety of our room, I could still feel the cold presence of that figure. The sound of its voice—my voice—echoed in my head like a haunting melody. Choose. But choose what? I could still feel Jake’s hands on my face from before, the desperate way he had searched my eyes, pleading for an answer I didn’t have. Now, he paced the room, his body tense with unspoken frustration. The others sat nearby, watching me with equal parts concern and curiosity. “You need to tell us everything,” Althea finally said, breaking the heavy silence. I rubbed my arms, trying to rid myself of the chill that had settled in my bones. “I was… alone. You were all gone. And the figure—it wasn’t just some shadow. It was me.” Sophie’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait. You? Like… a doppelgänger situation?” I nodded slowly. “Exactly like that. She—It—told me I had to choose. But I don’t know what t
The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a blade. We had all woken up in a cold sweat, shaken by the fact that we had the exact same dream—no, it wasn’t just a dream. It felt too real. The streets of that town, the heavy feeling of being watched, the way the air had seemed almost alive with something unnatural. I glanced around at the others, my heart still hammering in my chest. Jake sat at the edge of the bed, his muscles tense, his jaw clenched as if trying to process everything at once. Fatima and Sophie had both fallen into a heavy silence, their usual humor nowhere to be seen. And Althea… she was staring blankly at the candle burning on the bedside table, deep in thought, her fingers twitching slightly. “This isn’t over,” I finally said, breaking the silence. “We left that place. We returned here. But somehow, it’s still with us.” Jake turned to me, his expression unreadable. “There has to be a reason why we all saw the same thing.” His voice was low, controlled—b
The morning air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine as I stepped out of the cabin. The town was finally behind us, but a strange unease still lingered in my chest. It wasn’t just the eerie experiences we had—it was something deeper, something clawing at my subconscious, demanding my attention.Jake was already outside, sharpening his dagger with a quiet focus that sent a chill through me. His jaw was tense, his muscles coiled, as if he were ready for another fight. I walked up to him, rubbing my arms against the cold. "You look like you're expecting trouble," I said, trying to sound lighthearted, but he barely acknowledged me at first.Finally, he sighed and set the dagger down. "I don’t like that we had to run from that place. It feels unfinished," he admitted.He wasn’t wrong. We had gotten away, but at what cost? The things we had seen, the presence that still clung to us like an unshakable shadow—I knew deep down that it wasn’t truly over.Sophie came strolling ou
The tension from our near escape still clung to me like a second skin, even as the night stretched into silence. My body was exhausted, my mind running circles around the events that had unfolded. I lay curled against Jake, his arms wrapped securely around me, his breath steady and warm against my hair. But sleep refused to claim me. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw flashes—red eyes in the dark, the twisted town, the feeling of time slipping like sand through my fingers. It had been too easy. Too clean of an escape. And that made my stomach churn. Jake shifted beside me, his grip tightening. “You’re thinking too much,” he murmured against my temple. I exhaled softly. “I can’t help it. Something isn’t right.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead, but there was tension in his touch. “We’ll figure it out in the morning. For now, just rest.” I nodded against his chest, but the uneasy feeling wouldn’t leave. And deep down, I knew—this wasn’t over. ---Morning came far too soon. T
The moment we stepped out of the inn, an eerie silence wrapped around us like a suffocating blanket. The town, which had been brimming with life just hours ago, now felt abandoned. The streets were empty, the lanterns flickering weakly, and the air carried a heavy stillness that made the hairs on my arms rise.Jake was the first to break the silence. "We need to get out of here. Now."His voice was calm but held an undertone of urgency that made my stomach twist. I reached for his hand instinctively, feeling the warmth of his skin grounding me.Althea, Sophie, Fatima, and Chris followed closely behind as we hurried toward the town's exit. But as we neared the main road leading out, a dense fog rolled in from nowhere, thick and unnatural. My breath hitched as the path ahead of us blurred into nothingness."What the hell?" Chris muttered, stepping ahead cautiously. He reached out a hand to push through the fog, but the moment his fingers touched it, a pulse of energy knocked him back on
The road stretched before us, endless and winding, as our SUV rumbled down the cracked pavement. The eerie little town we'd just left was nothing more than a fading memory in the rearview mirror. Or at least, that’s what we thought.Fatima sat in the back, fiddling with the radio, static crackling through the speakers. Sophie drummed her fingers on the dashboard while Althea stared out the window, her fingers twitching like she was trying to grab something unseen. Chris, sitting next to Fatima, was uncharacteristically quiet.“I swear, I’ll never step foot in another weird-ass town again,” Sophie muttered, shifting in her seat. “That place gave me the creeps.”“Agreed,” Jake said, his fingers gripping the wheel tighter. “Let’s just get home and pretend this never happened.”Silence settled over the car for a while, broken only by the hum of the tires against the road. The trees lining the highway were dense, towering over us, their darkened silhouettes illuminated by the occasional f
The idea of taking a break from everything was both ridiculous and desperately needed. The pack had been through hell, and for the first time in weeks, there was no immediate crisis to solve. So, when Sophie suggested a road trip, I had laughed—until I saw the way Jake looked at me, like he knew I needed this more than anyone. And maybe I did.That’s how I found myself crammed in an SUV with Jake, Althea, Sophie, Fatima, and Jake speeding down an open road. The wind blew through my hair as I rolled down the window, feeling something I hadn’t in a long time—freedom.“Alright, we need road trip rules,” Sophie announced from the backseat, pulling out a notepad. “Rule number one: No talking about pack politics.”“Agreed,” Fatima said, munching on a bag of spicy chips. “Rule number two: The driver does not get to pick all the music.”Jake, who was behind the wheel, raised a brow. “Excuse me? Who else would pick?”“Literally anyone else,” Althea said, crossing her arms. “You listen to brood
The morning air was crisp and fresh, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth through the open windows. It was the kind of morning that whispered of new beginnings, of hope gently stretching its fingers through the cracks of sorrow. I stood on the balcony, sipping warm tea, watching the sun rise over the treetops. The pack had been through hell, but today—today felt different. The heaviness that had lingered like an unshakable fog finally seemed to be lifting. Laughter drifted up from below, the sound of children playing near the training grounds. Warriors, who once walked with the weight of grief on their shoulders, were smiling as they sparred in the courtyard. The pack was healing, slowly but surely. I had found a place here. It had taken time, patience, and a lot of self-doubt, but now, watching the people I had come to love rebuild their lives, I felt at home. A pair of strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind, pulling me against a warm chest. “You’re up early,” J