Destined by the moon, Claimed by Three

Chapter 3: The Lycan Prince

Aisling’s life took on a strange new rhythm after she accepted her pregnancy. Her days were filled with work at the hospital, while her nights were spent preparing for the baby. There were doctor’s appointments, prenatal vitamins, and the gradual transformation of her spare bedroom into a nursery. Yet beneath the calm surface of her routine, an undercurrent of anxiety swirled, fueled by the unknowns surrounding her child’s father. Cade remained a mystery, his absence a constant reminder of the unanswered questions that haunted her.

Three months into her pregnancy, the first real sign of change came—not from within her, but from the world outside. It was a cool autumn evening when Aisling returned home from work, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of the nursery and the gender reveal appointment she had scheduled for the following week. She was exhausted, her feet aching after another long shift, and all she wanted was to curl up on the couch with a bowl of soup and a good movie.

But as she approached her apartment building, she noticed something unusual. The street, normally quiet at this hour, felt strangely tense. The shadows seemed deeper, the air thicker, as if the night itself was holding its breath. Aisling slowed her steps, her instincts prickling with unease. She glanced around, scanning the street for any sign of danger, but everything appeared normal.

Shaking off the feeling, she climbed the steps to her building and unlocked the front door. The lobby was empty, the soft hum of the fluorescent lights the only sound. Aisling made her way to the elevator, her keys jingling in her hand, but just as she reached for the button, she heard it—a faint rustle, like the whisper of fabric against skin.

She turned, her heart skipping a beat, but the lobby was still empty. The noise must have come from outside, she told herself, forcing a calm she didn’t feel. But as she pressed the elevator button and waited for the doors to open, the uneasy feeling grew stronger. There was something in the air tonight, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

The elevator dinged, the doors sliding open with a quiet whoosh. Aisling stepped inside and hit the button for her floor, tapping her foot impatiently as the doors closed. The ride up felt interminable, each floor passing with a sluggish inevitability. When the elevator finally reached her floor, she stepped out and headed down the hallway to her apartment, eager to be inside, to lock the door behind her and leave this unsettling feeling behind.

But as she reached her door, her steps faltered. The door was slightly ajar, the lock broken. Aisling’s heart slammed against her ribs as she stared at the damage, her mind racing. She had locked the door when she left that morning—she was sure of it. Someone had been in her apartment.

A surge of fear gripped her, but beneath it was a flicker of something else—anger. This was her home, her sanctuary, and someone had violated that. Clenching her fists, she pushed the door open and stepped inside, her senses on high alert. The living room was dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of the streetlights outside. Nothing seemed out of place, but the silence was oppressive, like the air had been sucked out of the room.

“Hello?” she called out, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to sound strong. “Is anyone here?”

There was no response, just the quiet hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. Aisling moved cautiously through the apartment, her eyes darting from shadow to shadow as she searched for any sign of an intruder. But everything was exactly as she had left it—no drawers ransacked, no furniture overturned. If someone had been here, they hadn’t taken anything.

But why break in and not steal anything?

She made her way to the nursery, her heart pounding as she pushed open the door. The room was still a work in progress, with paint swatches taped to the walls and boxes of baby clothes stacked in the corner. Everything was untouched, just as she had left it. But as she turned to leave, something caught her eye—a piece of paper lying on the floor near the crib.

Frowning, Aisling crossed the room and picked it up. It was a note, the paper thick and expensive, the handwriting elegant and precise. The message was short, but it sent a chill down her spine:

*We need to talk. I’ll be waiting outside. —Caden Blackwood.*

Aisling stared at the note, her mind reeling. Caden Blackwood. The name felt familiar, tugging at the edges of her memory, but she couldn’t quite place it. And then it hit her—Cade. Could this be the same man she had met that night? The man who had disappeared without a trace?

Her heart pounded in her chest as she reread the note, the implications sinking in. He was here. He had been in her apartment, and now he was waiting for her outside. The fear she had felt earlier was back, sharper than before, but this time it was mixed with something else—curiosity.

Why had he come back? What did he want?

Taking a deep breath, Aisling folded the note and slipped it into her pocket. She didn’t have time to think about it—she needed to confront him, to get answers. She turned on her heel and headed back toward the front door, her steps quickening as she prepared herself for whatever lay ahead.

The night air was cool against her skin as she stepped outside, her breath fogging in the chilly autumn breeze. The street was empty, the buildings around her dark and silent. For a moment, she thought she had been tricked, that this was some kind of cruel joke. But then she saw him.

Caden Blackwood was standing in the shadows at the edge of the street, his tall, imposing figure half-hidden by the darkness. He was dressed in black, his coat billowing around him like a cloak, and his eyes—those piercing blue eyes she remembered so well—glinted in the dim light. He looked exactly as he had that night, but there was a hardness to him now, a coldness that hadn’t been there before.

Aisling’s breath caught in her throat as their eyes met, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words, until finally, Caden stepped forward, his movements smooth and controlled.

“You came,” he said, his voice low and calm. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

Aisling crossed her arms over her chest, trying to steady her racing heart. “You broke into my apartment,” she replied, her voice tight with anger. “What do you expect me to do? Ignore you?”

“I had to see you,” Caden said, his gaze intense. “There are things we need to discuss.”

“Like what?” she snapped, her anger flaring. “How you disappeared without a word after that night? How you left me to deal with the consequences on my own?”

He winced, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of guilt in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by the same cold, unreadable expression. “I didn’t have a choice,” he said quietly. “There are things you don’t understand, Aisling. Things that go beyond that night.”

Aisling’s frustration boiled over, and she took a step toward him, her fists clenched at her sides. “Then explain it to me. Because right now, all I see is a man who walked away without a second thought.”

Caden’s jaw tightened, and he took a deep breath before speaking again. “I’m not who you think I am,” he said, his voice measured. “My name is Caden Blackwood, and I’m the prince of the Lycans.”

Aisling blinked, her anger momentarily replaced by confusion. “The Lycans?” she repeated, shaking her head. “What are you talking about?”

Caden hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “I’m a Lycanthrope, Aisling. A werewolf. That night we met, I was…different. In more ways than one.”

Aisling stared at him, her mind struggling to process what he was saying. A werewolf? Was he serious? It sounded absurd, like something out of a horror movie. But as she looked into his eyes, she realized he wasn’t joking. There was a sincerity in his voice, a weight to his words that made her blood run cold.

“You’re insane,” she whispered, taking a step back. “You expect me to believe that you’re some kind of monster?”

“I’m not a monster,” Caden said firmly, his gaze locking onto hers. “I’m a protector. And right now, you’re in danger.”

“Danger?” Aisling repeated, her voice rising. “From what?”

“From those who would use your child for their own purposes,” he replied, his expression grave. “You’re carrying a powerful legacy, Aisling. Our child is not just human—it’s part Lycan. And that makes it a target.”

The words hit her like a physical blow, knocking the air from her lungs. Aisling staggered back, her hand going to her stomach as she tried to make sense of what he was saying. Part Lycan. Was it possible? Could the child growing inside her really be something more than human?

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “This can’t be real. It’s impossible.”

Caden moved closer, his voice gentle but insistent. “I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s the truth. There’s a war brewing, Aisling, and our child is at the center of it. That’s why I came back. To protect you. To protect both of you.”

Aisling’s mind whirled, a storm of fear and disbelief. This couldn’t be happening. Her life had been turned upside down once already, and now it was being ripped apart all over again. She wanted to scream, to demand answers, but all she could do was stand there, frozen in place, as the reality of her situation sank in.

Finally, she found her voice, though it was barely more than a whisper. “What do you want from me?”

“I want to keep you safe,” Caden said, his voice softening. “Come with me, Aisling. Let me protect you and our child. There are others who will come for you, and they won’t be as kind as I am.”

Aisling looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. She didn’t know what to believe, didn’t know if she could trust him. But deep down, she knew one thing: her life was no longer her own. It was tied to the child she carried, and to the man standing before her.

With a trembling breath, she nodded. “Okay,” she said, her voice shaking. “I’ll go with you. But you’d better start explaining everything, Caden. I want the truth.”

Caden’s expression softened with relief, and he reached out, taking her hand in his. “You’ll have it,” he promised. “Everything you need to know. But first, we need to leave. There’s no time to waste.”

As he led her away from her apartment, Aisling glanced back one last time, feeling a pang of loss for the life she was leaving behind. She didn’t know what lay ahead, but she knew one thing for sure: nothing would ever be the same again.