All Chapters of The HIDDENS: Chapter 101 - Chapter 109

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

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

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 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

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