Chapter 38
POV: Cain?
The moment her eyes opened, I felt it.
A shift.
The air itself seemed to change, heavy with something unseen. I felt it waver off of her, the invisible weight pulling away like a tide retreating from the shore.
And in that brief moment, everything felt different.
And then I saw it.
Her eyes. They glowed…gold.
I staggered back, losing my footing, shocked from what I had just seen.
It couldn’t be? Could it?
Yet it was.
Her eyes were gold. They were the same shade of gold that mine were when my wolf was near.
I gripped Kiera’s hand tighter, feeling the life force surge throughout her as a deafening scream left her lips.
“Kiera,” I whispered.
But she didn’t speak back. Instead she screamed again, the sound leaving her mouth in a deafening echo.
Her fingers crushed mine as another contraction hit her. I didn’t pull away, even when the pressure nearly ground the bones in my hand together. If it helped her hold on, she could break every finger for all I cared.
But I stared into her gold eyes—perplexed.
“Breathe, Kiera,” Mia said steadily, steading at the front of the bed, watching the inside of Kiera’s legs, waiting for the baby.
Kiera’s chest rose and fell in uneven gasps as she fought for air between the waves of pain, but despite her breaths and the undoubtful pain that surged throughout her body, I’ve never seen her this strong.
Then another contraction hit.
Her whole body curled forward, a cry ripping from her throat as she squeezed my hand. “The baby’s coming—”
“Keep pushing,” Mia said without hesitation. “You got this, Kiera.”
Mia exchanged a glance with me, her forehead wrinkling as she did.
I whispered, “Her eyes…”
Mia gave me a wary look. “Maybe it’s the baby…”
“No, it’s her. It’s Kiera,” I said with certainty. “She’s…”
But she couldn’t be. It didn’t make sense. Kiera couldn’t have a wolf. It shouldn’t be possible—it wouldn’t be possible.
Then Kiera’s breathing turned frantic as the pressure built again.
“I need to push,” she managed out.
Mia nodded immediately, moving her gaze away from mine and back to Kiera.
I brushed the damp hair from her forehead.
“I’m right here, baby,” I murmured quietly, comforting.
The contraction faded and she collapsed back against the pillows, chest heaving as her eyes stayed bright gold.
For a moment, fear crept up my spine. But I forced it down.
“You got this, baby,” I told her. “You got this. You’re so strong.”
Kiera drew in a shaky breath and pushed again, her fingers digging into my hand hard enough to make the bones grind. I didn’t care.
Mia suddenly leaned forward. “I can see the head,” she said in excitement.
Her golden eyes never wavered, instead they locked onto mine and never left.
“Almost there,” Mia said. “Just one more push.”
Kiera pushed with everything she had left.
Then a small cry broke through the silence.
I felt something in my chest loosen instantly.
Mia lifted the newborn baby boy carefully.
Mia gently placed him against Kiera’s chest. Kiera’s arms wrapped around the baby instinctively as tears slipped down her face as she looked down at him in wonder. And when she looked up at me, her eyes still glowed gold.
And that’s when I felt it.
The shift was clear now.
Before it was just speculation—as her eyes glowed gold.
But as I looked down at Kiera, with our baby in her arms, I felt it.
The wolf energy wavering off of her—like a female wolf protecting her newborn pup.
“You’re…” I began, the words silencing in my throat. “You’re…you have a wolf, Kiera.”
Shock settled within me—in waves, gracing every inch of my body and mind.
It hadn’t hit me yet.
Until now.
Kiera had a wolf. She was no longer a human. She was my Luna—but now a true Luna.
“No…” she whispered in a laugh, cradling our baby against her chest, tenderly.
But then her forehead wrinkled in reflection, as if she was thinking—considering my words. “No, it can’t be…”
“But it is,” Kiera, I said, exchanging a glance between Mia and her. “You feel it, the strength, don’t you?”
“I—” she began, breathing heavily, her hands shaking as she held our baby. “I—I saw something.”
I cocked an eyebrow, holding my arms, offering to hold our baby.
With shaky hands, she handed him to me.
I wrapped my arms around him, rocking him back and forth, allowing Kiera to wrap her mind around the transformation.
She glanced down at the inside of her palms, as if they held the answers. “I saw something—when I was in labor—when I thought I was dying.”
I waited for her to continue.
“And…and…I think it was your God—your Goddess who was preparing me for this moment. For…”
“For the change,” I whispered, looking down at our baby boy in wonder. “The Goddess saved you. She knew that the birth would kill you.”
“It felt like I was dying,” she said softly. “I thought I was. What does that mean?” she asked in a rush.
My wolf howled inside of me, happy about the revelation. “You have a wolf now, Kiera. You’re no longer human.”
Kiera stared up at me—a mixture of disbelief and understanding within her gaze. After everything she’d seen, after everything she’d been through—she knew it was possible. That the impossible could be possible. “But it should be impossible.”
I glanced down at our baby in my arms, his cries soft, as I rocked him back and forth in my arms. “Destiny doesn’t care about impossibility.”
And when she looked up at me—her eyes weren’t full of fear but instead full of hope.