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
**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 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
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 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
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
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
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