Chapter 37
POV: Kiera
I was surrounded by fog. Around me was darkness, fog, but a light streaming in the distance.
The words oscillated in my head on a constant loop, “He will be the legitimate heir and will become Alpha one day. Do not worry, child. But the pack will not speak of him in their legends. They will speak of you.”
Three wolves stood in the distance, staring at me, their eyes fixated on me, as if this wasn’t a dream…but a reality instead.
I stepped towards them, trying to quicken my pace, but it was impossible, my feet felt like they were cemented cinderblocks.
I blinked, opening my mouth to speak but no words came out.
All I could do was stare. I could see them but not speak. I wanted to move but I couldn’t.
The light fixated on them, exemplifying the colors of their fur, causing them to shine in the distance.
I tried to move again but it was useless. I couldn’t move.
Then I heard it again—a booming voice from up above, as if it was the heavens summoning me. But it couldn’t be.
Why would God show wolves? Why would God send cryptic messages?
The words soaked into my skin.
“The mark will save you.”
“The mark will serve you.”
“The mark will strengthen you.”
And I was damned certain that God wouldn’t be speaking about a mark—a werewolf mark either.
It had to be their God. The female Goddess they spoke of. The moon goddess.
The one Cain spoke of—the one he said willed our bond—our fate—our mateship. And now instead of meeting my God—I was meeting theirs. Dying in the way a wolf would.
My breath began to heighten, each inhale sharp and ragged, scraping painfully through my chest.
This is it. This is the end of my life. This is the last thing I’ll see.
The tears began to stream down my face without stopping. They landed on my lips and the taste of salt only made me cry harder.
My breath began to heighten—ragged, painful, quick inhales that clawed against my throat. Each breath felt smaller than the last, as if the air itself had begun to abandon me.
But it wasn’t just the fact that I was dying that made the grief rise in my chest.
It was my baby.
The thought struck like a sudden flash of light through fog.
I would never see my baby again. I would never hold…him. I would never hear his voice or feel his tiny hands clutching at my fingers. All the moments that were supposed to come—first steps, laughter, scraped knees, sleepy smiles gone before they had even begun.
And then a worse thought followed.
That I couldn’t believe the voice.
Because what if my baby died with me?
The realization crashed into me so violently it hurt more than the failing breath in my lungs. The idea that my child’s life could end here, tangled with mine, before they ever had the chance to live it. That I could fail them in the most final way possible.
That hurt the worst.
Because dying was terrifying, yes—but knowing my child might never live at all… that was unbearable.
I felt a kick within my stomach.
But when I went down to caress it—my stomach was flat. The baby wasn’t there. My stomach was flat and empty.
And that only made me cry harder. The tears poured down my face and I began to sob as I stared through the fog at the wolves beyond.
The sobs were the only sound I heard in the quiet distance.
Then the voice boomed again—the tone was loud and commanding. “Death is part of the process. Do not fear it. Embrace it.”
And as soon as the wind quieted, the voice faded.
The sky went completely black. The fog was gone now and so were the wolves. The light even faded.
Then I felt it.
Searing pain, like something was cutting through my skin—puncturing it—marking me.
It felt like teeth sinking into the skin of my neck, tearing a tendon as they did.
I screamed out in pain, gasping, as I collapsed onto the forest floor. Every inch of my body tingled from the sensation. Painful, ecstatic, eternal.
I struggled to breathe, gasping for deeper breaths that never seemed deep enough. Each inhale was sharp and desperate, tearing into my lungs before escaping just as quickly. My fingernails dug into the damp earth beneath me, the cool mud pressing under my nails as I clawed at the ground.
It was the only thing keeping me anchored.
The ground steadied me, kept me from drifting too far into the darkness creeping at the edges of my vision.
Yet with every gasp, something inside me unraveled.
Something inside me awakened.
Something deep within my chest stirred—slow, unfamiliar, and powerful. Beneath the pain and the panic, beneath the fear clawing at my lungs, a strange strength began to rise. It crept through me like heat spreading through frozen limbs.
Something inside of me felt… strong.
I blinked my eyes open, a scream leaving my mouth as I felt it coming. The baby was coming.
And I wasn’t dead. Instead I was alive and I’ve never felt stronger in my entire life.