The howl of the wind outside matched the storm raging in my heart. It was the fourth day without Jake. Every creak of the pack house, every movement in the shadows had me jumping. My nerves were frayed. Each second that passed without news of him only worsened the knot in my chest. I tried distracting myself by pouring over the research Fatima and I had uncovered. Deformed wolves, hidden pups, monstrous killers—it felt like something out of a nightmare. But this nightmare was all too real. I had to keep my mind occupied, or the fear would consume me. The sound of hurried footsteps and muffled voices snapped me out of my thoughts. My heart lurched as I rushed out of my room, my bare feet skidding on the wooden floor. Fatima was already halfway down the stairs, her face pale. “What’s going on?” I asked, panic lacing my voice. “It’s Jake,” she said, her voice trembling. “He’s back, Prisca. But he’s hurt.” I didn’t wait for her to say more. My legs moved on instinct, carrying me
The day began as quietly as any other, though a palpable tension hung in the air. Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains of our room, and for a fleeting moment, everything felt normal. Jake was beside me, his breathing even, his face peaceful in sleep. I stared at him, memorizing every detail of his face—the strong line of his jaw, the soft curve of his lips. He looked so serene, so unlike the man who carried the weight of the pack on his shoulders. But I knew that serenity wouldn’t last. The creature was still out there, and today was the day we would try to capture it. Jake stirred, his eyes fluttering open. “You’re staring,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. “I’m allowed to stare,” I said, a small smile tugging at my lips. “You’re my mate.” He chuckled, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from my face. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” My cheeks flushed, but the warmth was short-lived. The reality of the day ahead quickly settled over us. “Are you su
The morning started like any other, though the tension in the air was impossible to ignore. The pack was quiet, more subdued than usual. The days of carefree chatter and laughter seemed like a distant memory now. Jake had already left by the time I woke up, and the space beside me in bed was cold. I reached out, brushing my fingers across the empty sheets, a pang of longing coursing through me. It was a familiar feeling these days—missing Jake even when he was close. Pushing the thoughts aside, I dressed quickly and made my way downstairs. The sound of hammering and the rhythmic thud of tools echoed through the pack house. The men were hard at work building the wall Jake and I had agreed upon, a temporary solution until we could deal with the creature once and for all. When I stepped outside, I found Jake standing near the construction site, giving orders. He was clad in a black T-shirt and jeans, his posture commanding. He had that look in his eyes, the one that said he was car
The morning came quietly, the sun hidden behind a veil of thick, gray clouds. The cold air seeped into the room, but I didn’t mind. Today was the day I decided to focus on something I could control—my power. Jake had already left, his duties pulling him away again. It was becoming a familiar routine, and though I understood his responsibilities, the absence left a gnawing emptiness in me. But I pushed those feelings aside. I couldn’t afford to wallow, not when the pack’s safety depended on me. I headed straight to the library, my resolve hardening with each step. If I was going to be a Luna that the pack respected, I needed to prove myself. Magic wasn’t just my heritage—it was my strength. The library was as silent as ever, the air heavy with the scent of aged paper and ink. Fatima had helped me set up a small area for practicing magic in the corner of the room, complete with an assortment of spellbooks, herbs, and candles. I started with the basics. Breathing deeply, I center
The air was thick with tension as the pack gathered near the edge of the forest. Jake stood at the center of the group, his presence commanding and his voice firm as he went over the plan one last time. The creature had been spotted near the river that cut through the woods, and this time, we were prepared.Or at least, we thought we were.I stood to the side, my heart hammering in my chest. The spell I had been perfecting for the past week buzzed in my mind, ready to be unleashed. This time, I wouldn’t just stand on the sidelines. I was going to help.Fatima stood next to me, her expression a mix of determination and worry. “You sure you’re ready for this?” she asked, her voice low.I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I have to be.”Jake caught my eye from across the clearing, his expression softening for just a moment. He gave me a small nod, and I felt a surge of courage.The plan was simple, at least on paper. The warriors would herd the creature into a trap we’d set near
The morning light filtered through the heavy drapes of the pack house, casting long, pale shadows across the room. Despite the sun’s effort to brighten the day, a persistent chill lingered in the air, matching the unease that had taken root in my chest. I stood by the window, my arms crossed, staring at the forest beyond. Somewhere out there, the creatures were lurking, plotting, or worse, multiplying. Jake’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “You’ve been quiet,” he said, stepping into the room. His movements were slower than usual, his injuries still healing. “I’m just thinking,” I replied, not turning around. “We’ve been fighting these things, but we don’t even know where they’re coming from or why.” He placed a hand on my shoulder, warm and reassuring. “We’ll figure it out, Prisca. Together.” Fatima and Christopher joined us in the dining room, maps and notes spread across the table. “We’ve got to dig deeper,” Fatima said, her tone sharp. “These deformed wolves didn’t just
“Morning,” Jake murmured, his voice a delicious rumble that sent shivers down my spine. I smiled, tilting my head to look at him. “Morning.” He leaned down, brushing his lips against mine. It was soft at first, a gentle reminder of our bond, but it quickly deepened. His hands slid down my sides, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. “Are you trying to distract me?” I teased when we finally broke apart, my breath coming in short gasps. “Always,” he said with a grin, his amber eyes glowing with affection. “You’ve been carrying too much on your shoulders, Prisca. Let me take some of that weight.” His words made my heart ache in the best way. Jake had this uncanny ability to make me feel safe, even when the world was crumbling around us. By mid-morning, the pack was bustling with activity. Men and women worked tirelessly on the wall we’d begun constructing to fortify the borders. Jake had assigned additional patrols to keep watch, and I could see the tens
The morning was unusually quiet, a heavy stillness in the air that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge. I sat in the library, surrounded by books and scrolls, my fingers trailing over faded ink as I searched for anything that could help us. Each word I read felt like a dead end. My frustration grew as hours ticked by, the answers I sought remaining just out of reach. Jake had gone back to the war room, strategizing with his warriors on how to deal with the creatures. Fatima was out gathering intel, her determination a mirror of my own. And me? I felt stuck, drowning in a sea of knowledge that refused to yield the answers I needed. I slammed the book shut and leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples. “Come on, Prisca,” I muttered to myself. “Think. There has to be something you’re missing.” A soft knock at the door startled me. I turned, half expecting Jake or Fatima, but instead, there stood a woman I had never seen before. Her presence was striking. She had
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
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
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
The morning air was crisp as I stepped outside, the cool breeze brushing against my skin. The world felt heavy, the weight of my vision pressing down on my shoulders like an iron yoke. I had barely slept the night before, my mind looping through the same horrible question—who do I sacrifice? Jake or our child? I couldn’t make that choice. I wouldn’t. Which meant I had only one option: to find a way to break this fate before it broke me. I needed my sister. Althea was in the greenhouse again, her hands covered in soil as she carefully tended to a row of herbs. The scent of rosemary and lavender filled the air, a calming contrast to the storm inside me. She glanced up as I approached, instantly recognizing the distress on my face. “You look like hell.” I let out a humorless chuckle. “You told me that yesterday.” “Well, it’s still true.” She dusted off her hands and crossed her arms. “Talk to me.” I hesitated for a moment before finally blurting out, “I need your help. I
The day started with sunlight streaming through the window, a rare reprieve from the gloom that seemed to have hung over the pack for weeks. I stretched carefully, my hand instinctively going to my stomach. It was still hard to believe that a life was growing inside me. Every little flutter, every kick, was a reminder of the impossible decision I was grappling with. Jake was still asleep beside me, his arm draped over my waist, his steady breathing a source of comfort. For a moment, I let myself forget everything—the visions, the chaos, the impending doom. In that quiet moment, it was just us. But peace doesn’t last, not in our world. I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him, and headed downstairs. Sophie was already in the kitchen, humming softly as she prepared breakfast. “Morning,” she said cheerfully. “You’re up early.” I forced a smile, grabbing a glass of water. “Couldn’t sleep.” She raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. Sophie was perceptive, but she knew when to
It started with rain. Not the gentle kind that taps on the window and lulls you into a false sense of peace. No, this was the unrelenting, bone-soaking kind that turned the ground to sludge and drowned any hope of a good day.I woke up to the sound of it hammering against the roof, a relentless drumming that refused to be ignored. Groaning, I rolled over and pulled the blankets tighter around me. Jake’s side of the bed was already cold, his absence a reminder of his early morning patrols.“Rain,” I muttered to myself. “Of course it’s raining.”The baby kicked lightly, as if agreeing with my discontent. I sighed, rubbing my belly. “You don’t like it either, huh?”There was no point in staying in bed, no matter how much I wanted to. The pack house didn’t run itself, and Jake certainly couldn’t handle everything alone.By the time I made it to the kitchen, I was already regretting getting up. Sophie was there, perched on the counter with a mug of coffee, her hair in a chaotic bun and her
The winds felt heavier today, thick with unspoken tension as if the earth itself knew something was amiss. Even the birds seemed quieter, their usual melodies replaced by uneasy chirps. I couldn’t shake the sense that this was the beginning of something dark. Esther’s cryptic words about chaos and fate clawed at the back of my mind, resurfacing with every step I took. I rested a hand on my still-flat stomach, a gesture of reassurance as much for me as it was for the baby. “It’s okay,” I murmured, though I wasn’t sure if I was convincing myself or the little life growing inside me. The day started normally enough. Jake had left early to oversee patrols after reports of rogue sightings near the border. I stayed behind, trying to keep myself busy in the garden. The vibrant blooms offered a semblance of peace, their colors a stark contrast to the unease brewing in my chest. But even this small sanctuary felt off. As I reached to pluck a weed, my fingers froze. The leaves of the rose
**Chapter: Cravings and Suspicions** *(Priscilla’s Perspective)* The day began with an overwhelming craving for waffles. Not just any waffles—crispy, golden waffles piled high with whipped cream, strawberries, chocolate syrup, and... bacon. Yes, bacon. Jake, the ever-supportive mate, was already in the kitchen when I stumbled in, still rubbing the sleep from my eyes. He looked up from the stove and grinned. “Good morning, sleepyhead. Waffles, right?” I froze, staring at him. “How did you know?” “Because it’s been waffles every morning this week,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “I’m starting to think you’ve developed a full-blown obsession.” “It’s not an obsession,” I muttered, sliding into a chair. “It’s... a craving.” Jake chuckled, setting a plate in front of me. “Whatever you say, love. Do you want syrup on the bacon again?” “Yes,” I said, completely serious. Jake didn’t even blink as he handed me the syrup bottle, but I could tell he was biting back a laugh. I dr
The morning started with a craving so bizarre it left me staring at the contents of my fridge in utter confusion. Pickles, peanut butter, and... raw steak? I blinked at the combination in my hands, shaking my head as if that would fix my brain. "What is wrong with me?" I muttered, setting the steak back and eyeing the peanut butter jar suspiciously. My stomach growled defiantly, and before I could stop myself, I was dipping a pickle into the peanut butter and taking a big bite. It wasn’t bad. Okay, it was disgusting, but my body apparently didn’t care because I went back for a second bite. Jake walked in just as I was mid-bite, the jar of peanut butter balanced precariously on the edge of the counter. He froze in the doorway, his eyes darting between the pickle in my hand and the jar. “Is that... what I think it is?” he asked, his tone a mix of horror and amusement. I swallowed quickly, my cheeks heating. “Don’t judge me.” Jake raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “I’m