Chapter 4
Dawn was three hours away. Three hours between me and either salvation or another lie.
I paced the cottage, my swollen belly heavy, my twins restless as if they sensed the electricity in my blood. The Lycan King's daughter. It sounded like madness. And yet—
A crash exploded through the cottage door.
It splintered inward, shards of wood scattering across the floor like shrapnel. Vivian stormed through the wreckage, flanked by four enforcers. Behind her, Mira followed in a white silk robe, her Luna crown gleaming on her head.
"Thought you could hide?" Vivian's eyes were wild—unhinged. She held up a phone. "We intercepted your messages, you treacherous whore. Contacting outsiders? Trying to bring enemies into our territory?"
My blood went cold. They'd been monitoring me.
"Those aren't enemies," I said, backing toward the wall. "They're my family—"
"You HAVE no family!" Vivian backhanded me so hard my vision split. I stumbled, catching myself on the bed frame, one arm wrapped around my stomach. "You're a packless orphan that my idiot son dragged home like a wounded animal."
"Vivian, please—the babies—"
"Cursed abominations." She grabbed my hair and yanked me to my knees. "I let you live out of mercy. But now you're calling Lycans to my doorstep? LYCANS?"
The word dripped with venom and—was that fear?
Mira circled behind me, her voice sweet as poisoned honey. "I told you, Mother Vivian. She's been planning this. She wants to overthrow the pack. Use those... things in her belly as leverage."
"They're Kael's children!" I gasped through the pain.
Mira crouched beside me, tilting her head with mock sympathy. "Poor Serena. Still clinging to that fantasy." She leaned close, her whisper only for me: "Even if they are his—and the pack will never believe it—they'll be born packless. Titleless. Cursed. I made sure of it."
She pulled something from her robe pocket—a document stamped with the council's seal. "A formal declaration. Any offspring of Kael's not born under the Luna bond is classified as illegitimate. Cursed blood. Subject to exile or... elimination."
My vision blurred with tears. "Kael would never sign—"
"He didn't need to. The council voted unanimously while he was busy feeling guilty about you." Mira tucked the paper away and stood. "Vivian, finish this. Before her so-called brothers arrive."
Vivian snapped her fingers. Two enforcers hauled me up by my arms. The other two produced silver chains—thin, delicate, designed to burn without killing immediately.
They wrapped them around my wrists.
The silver seared into my flesh. I screamed—a raw, animalistic sound torn from the deepest part of me. The pain was immense, but worse was the feeling of my wolf—already weak—retreating further, pushed down by the silver's suppression.
"Drag her to the eastern clearing," Vivian commanded. "The sun rises in two hours. We'll leave her in the exposure circle. If the Goddess wants her alive, She'll intervene."
The exposure circle. The pack's ancient punishment for traitors—chained in an open clearing during the full shift of the moon. Any rogue, any predator, any creature could reach her. No protection. No pack bonds to call for help.
They dragged me out of the cottage, my bare feet scraping against frozen ground. I could feel my twins moving frantically inside me—panicked, as if they knew.
"Please," I begged—not for me, but for them. "Kill me if you want. But cut them out first. Give them to Kael. He'll—"
"He'll what?" Vivian laughed. "He's in Mira's bed right now, girl. Celebrating his Luna. Do you think he'll mourn you? He'll be relieved."
The clearing appeared ahead—a barren circle of dead earth surrounded by ancient oaks. They chained me to the iron post at its center, the silver links burning hotter with each passing second.
Vivian leaned close, her breath hot against my ear. "Die quietly, girl. It's the only dignified thing you've ever been capable of."
They left.
The silence was absolute. The moon hung overhead like a cold eye, watching without mercy. Blood dripped from my wrists where the silver had eaten through skin. My babies kicked weakly—their movements slowing.
"Hold on," I whispered to them, my forehead pressed against the iron post. "Please. Just hold on a little longer."
The sky was beginning to lighten at its edges. Dawn was approaching.
And with it, either death—or the brothers I'd never met.
Twenty minutes passed. My body was shutting down. The silver poisoning was spreading through my bloodstream, and my twins had gone still. Too still.
Then—
The ground trembled.
Not an earthquake. Something purposeful. Rhythmic. Like massive footsteps approaching in perfect synchronization.
The ancient oaks surrounding the clearing began to crack—not break, crack—their bark splitting as if some immense pressure was being exerted on the very air.
Five figures emerged from the tree line.
They were enormous—each standing nearly seven feet tall in human form, their bodies radiating a power so dense it distorted the air around them like heat waves. Their eyes glowed amber-gold, not the yellow of a common wolf but the molten, otherworldly gold of pure Lycan blood.
The one in front—the tallest, with a scar running from his temple to his jaw—looked at the chains on my wrists, the blood pooling beneath me, my swollen belly.
His eyes shifted from gold to pure, burning white.
"Who," he said, and his voice made the earth itself shudder, "did this to our sister?"
I paced the cottage, my swollen belly heavy, my twins restless as if they sensed the electricity in my blood. The Lycan King's daughter. It sounded like madness. And yet—
A crash exploded through the cottage door.
It splintered inward, shards of wood scattering across the floor like shrapnel. Vivian stormed through the wreckage, flanked by four enforcers. Behind her, Mira followed in a white silk robe, her Luna crown gleaming on her head.
"Thought you could hide?" Vivian's eyes were wild—unhinged. She held up a phone. "We intercepted your messages, you treacherous whore. Contacting outsiders? Trying to bring enemies into our territory?"
My blood went cold. They'd been monitoring me.
"Those aren't enemies," I said, backing toward the wall. "They're my family—"
"You HAVE no family!" Vivian backhanded me so hard my vision split. I stumbled, catching myself on the bed frame, one arm wrapped around my stomach. "You're a packless orphan that my idiot son dragged home like a wounded animal."
"Vivian, please—the babies—"
"Cursed abominations." She grabbed my hair and yanked me to my knees. "I let you live out of mercy. But now you're calling Lycans to my doorstep? LYCANS?"
The word dripped with venom and—was that fear?
Mira circled behind me, her voice sweet as poisoned honey. "I told you, Mother Vivian. She's been planning this. She wants to overthrow the pack. Use those... things in her belly as leverage."
"They're Kael's children!" I gasped through the pain.
Mira crouched beside me, tilting her head with mock sympathy. "Poor Serena. Still clinging to that fantasy." She leaned close, her whisper only for me: "Even if they are his—and the pack will never believe it—they'll be born packless. Titleless. Cursed. I made sure of it."
She pulled something from her robe pocket—a document stamped with the council's seal. "A formal declaration. Any offspring of Kael's not born under the Luna bond is classified as illegitimate. Cursed blood. Subject to exile or... elimination."
My vision blurred with tears. "Kael would never sign—"
"He didn't need to. The council voted unanimously while he was busy feeling guilty about you." Mira tucked the paper away and stood. "Vivian, finish this. Before her so-called brothers arrive."
Vivian snapped her fingers. Two enforcers hauled me up by my arms. The other two produced silver chains—thin, delicate, designed to burn without killing immediately.
They wrapped them around my wrists.
The silver seared into my flesh. I screamed—a raw, animalistic sound torn from the deepest part of me. The pain was immense, but worse was the feeling of my wolf—already weak—retreating further, pushed down by the silver's suppression.
"Drag her to the eastern clearing," Vivian commanded. "The sun rises in two hours. We'll leave her in the exposure circle. If the Goddess wants her alive, She'll intervene."
The exposure circle. The pack's ancient punishment for traitors—chained in an open clearing during the full shift of the moon. Any rogue, any predator, any creature could reach her. No protection. No pack bonds to call for help.
They dragged me out of the cottage, my bare feet scraping against frozen ground. I could feel my twins moving frantically inside me—panicked, as if they knew.
"Please," I begged—not for me, but for them. "Kill me if you want. But cut them out first. Give them to Kael. He'll—"
"He'll what?" Vivian laughed. "He's in Mira's bed right now, girl. Celebrating his Luna. Do you think he'll mourn you? He'll be relieved."
The clearing appeared ahead—a barren circle of dead earth surrounded by ancient oaks. They chained me to the iron post at its center, the silver links burning hotter with each passing second.
Vivian leaned close, her breath hot against my ear. "Die quietly, girl. It's the only dignified thing you've ever been capable of."
They left.
The silence was absolute. The moon hung overhead like a cold eye, watching without mercy. Blood dripped from my wrists where the silver had eaten through skin. My babies kicked weakly—their movements slowing.
"Hold on," I whispered to them, my forehead pressed against the iron post. "Please. Just hold on a little longer."
The sky was beginning to lighten at its edges. Dawn was approaching.
And with it, either death—or the brothers I'd never met.
Twenty minutes passed. My body was shutting down. The silver poisoning was spreading through my bloodstream, and my twins had gone still. Too still.
Then—
The ground trembled.
Not an earthquake. Something purposeful. Rhythmic. Like massive footsteps approaching in perfect synchronization.
The ancient oaks surrounding the clearing began to crack—not break, crack—their bark splitting as if some immense pressure was being exerted on the very air.
Five figures emerged from the tree line.
They were enormous—each standing nearly seven feet tall in human form, their bodies radiating a power so dense it distorted the air around them like heat waves. Their eyes glowed amber-gold, not the yellow of a common wolf but the molten, otherworldly gold of pure Lycan blood.
The one in front—the tallest, with a scar running from his temple to his jaw—looked at the chains on my wrists, the blood pooling beneath me, my swollen belly.
His eyes shifted from gold to pure, burning white.
"Who," he said, and his voice made the earth itself shudder, "did this to our sister?"