Scarred By Fate

Prologue 3

Heather's POV:

A sudden, sharp pain blooms in my stomach. I gasp, my hand flying to my belly as panic surges through me.

Cole!

Alison’s eyes snap to mine immediately, her face tight with concern. I grimace, shaking my head slightly, trying to keep my fear in check. We both reach for our mates through our bonds, straining for reassurance without distracting them from the battle.

Suddenly another pain. Fiercer. Deeper. I double over, clutching my stomach.

“Cole!” His name rips from my lips, fear clawing at my chest.

Alison is at my side in an instant, steadying me. “Heather,” she says quickly, her tone firm but gentle, “I am sure he is fine. I have not sensed any distress from Lucas, and they are fighting side by side.”

I nod, she’s right, I can’t sense any fear through our bond, and now the pain is easing. Forcing myself to take deep breaths, I try really, really hard to relax again.

The pain is gone now. But the lingering unease won’t fade.

A sudden, crushing pain tightens around my abdomen, rippling through my back like fire. My breath is ripped away, and I double over, gasping.

“Heather, I’m not sure if this is Cole’s pain you’re feeling,” Alison says, her voice edged with something close to alarm.

I lift my head, confused and disoriented. “What do you mean? Of course, it is!”

Her gaze drops to where I’m hunched over on the floor. “I think it’s yours.”

I open my mouth to argue, but then I notice the dampness that’s spreading between my legs. A warm trickle turns into a flood, soaking through my trousers.

No. No, no, no.

“s**t!” I cry out as another contraction claws through me, sharp and relentless. The pain in my back and pelvis turns brutal, tearing through my body.

She’s coming. Too soon.

Cole had been convinced the Oracle’s words weren’t about our baby, especially when we calculated her due date, six weeks after the coming Pink Moon. But if she’s coming now, trapped down here with no way to check the sky… Goddess, what if it is the Pink Moon tonight?

A familiar presence pushes through our mate bond, Cole, sensing my pain. I slam my walls up immediately. He cannot feel this. I will not let him be distracted.

I can do this myself.

The contractions come hard and fast, my body working against me, forcing me forward with a terrifying speed I hadn’t experienced with Zach.

With him, it was slower, more controlled. But now? It feels like I’m being torn apart.

Alison helps me change into a loose-fitting dress from the basket of spare clothes, and I force myself to pace, desperate to keep my mind off the relentless pain.

But it keeps getting worse. So much worse.

Why is it happening so fast?

Suddenly, I feel like something rips through me.

That is different.

Not a contraction. Not pressure. severe pain.

I scream.

The sound is raw, primal, and Helena whimpers in my mind.

‘What? What is it?’

Helena’s voice is sharp. ‘It’s the pup… she’s not going to make it. She’s dying.’

No.

No, no, no, no!

‘I’m channeling all my strength to her, but that means… we won’t heal...’ she pauses, I know what she’s doing, she’s sacrificing us for our daughter.

‘Do it, do it!’ I beg my wolf

‘Get her out now!’ she pants at me, her voice already sounding so weak,

“Ali,” I gasp, clutching my stomach as the pain intensifies. “Something’s wrong. Helena says something’s wrong with the pup!”

Alison’s eyes widen in horror, just as another wave of liquid runs down my legs.

This time, it’s not clear.

It’s red.

A horrified curse rips from the woman beside me as she sees what I already know—I’m bleeding.

A lot.

Panic surges through my veins, cold and paralyzing. My pup!

“s**t,” Alison breathes, her voice breaking.

The world tilts. Blurs.

No, no, I can’t black out, I can’t.

I blink hard, forcing my body to obey, gripping Alison’s wrist with everything I have left. My fingernails dig into her skin, my grip desperate.

“Alison,” I gasp, my voice barely above a whisper. “Get her out. Now. Do what you have to do. Save my pup.”

Alison’s eyes lock onto mine, wide with terror.

“Heather, there’s no healer here. I don’t know how!”

I tighten my grip. “Get her out… please.” I beg.

The world is slipping away, fading at the edges.

A sharp sensation rips through my stomach—something is happening, but I can barely register the pain anymore.

My heartbeat slows.

Thump.

Thump.

Fainter.

Helena is gone from my mind.

She’s giving everything to our pup. Keeping her alive. She’s special. She needs to survive.

Alison’s face swims before mine, blurred and hazy, her expression a mixture of relief and sorrow. She is clutching something small, bloody, fragile, perfect. Tears spill down her cheeks.

“Heather,” she whispers, voice thick with emotion. “Meet your daughter.”

She lays the tiny bundle on my chest.

The moment her warmth touches me, I inhale sharply, drinking in her scent—fresh jasmine and citrus, delicate and new. I could breathe her in forever.

I press a trembling kiss to her damp little head.

“Hello, my daughter,” I murmur, voice barely more than breath. “Be strong, my Zahra.”

The scent of iron and blood overwhelms me now, drowning out the sweetness of my pup.

I try to lift my arms, to hold her closer, but they feel impossibly heavy. My fingers are numb. My head lolls to the side, the weight of my own body too much to bear.

And then—I can no longer feel her. The world tilts.

The warmth seeps from my bones, replaced by an endless, creeping cold.

My heartbeat stutters.

Once.

Twice.

Then—nothing.

I float.

Up and away, light as air, weightless as the wind.

I look down, and my breath catches.

My body lies still, pale against the pool of deep crimson spreading around me. A gaping wound splits my stomach wide open, a grotesque testament to my sacrifice.

Alison cradles my daughter now, wrapping her carefully in a blanket. She is speaking, her voice urgent, her hands shaking.

But I cannot hear her anymore. I turn, searching.

Zach.

I find him tucked in a quiet corner, away from the bloodshed, nestled in Natasha’s lap as she reads to him. He pauses, his small face lifting, his bright eyes locking onto mine.

And then, he smiles.

A little wave.

He sees me.

“I love you, Zachy,” I whisper.

He must hear me as the little smile that splits his chubby face is full of love and happiness.

He turns back to his book, content.

The wind tugs at me, carrying me higher, beyond the packhouse.

I float over the battlefield.

Bodies are strewn like fallen leaves; the scent of blood thick in the air. The fighting rages, fierce and unrelenting.

And there, in the centre of the chaos;

Cole.

My mate is fighting beside his Alpha, his movements sharp and deadly, his focus unbreakable.

Pain crashes through me at the realization that I will never hold him again. Never hear his voice. Never kiss him goodnight.

The breeze pulls me farther, past him, away from him, but I cannot leave without saying goodbye.

“Cole,” I call, my voice a whisper on the wind.

I love you.

For a moment, he pauses.

His head tilts, as if he heard me.

As if he felt me.

Then an enemy barrels into him, dragging him back into the fight.

I sigh, surrendering to the wind’s pull.

The stars blur. The world fades. And the Moon Goddess calls me home. And a mournful howl rents the night air.