Born Under the Blood Moon
1168 Words
Chapter 6: When the Blood Moon Takes Its Due
Pain comes in waves.
Not the sharp, tearing agony I expected—but something deeper. Older. Like the earth itself tightening around me, claiming what it is owed.
I barely register the healer shouting orders. Hands grab my shoulders. Someone lifts Kael away from me, and the loss of his weight feels like being torn in half.
“No,” I cry, reaching for him as another contraction rips through me. “Don’t take him—please—”
“Lyra, look at me,” the healer says urgently. “You need to focus. Your body is moving too fast.”
Too fast.
The words barely register before pain crushes everything else.
I scream.
The pack surrounds us in chaos—wolves shouting, elders arguing, guards rushing toward the ravine Selene escaped into. No one knows what to do first.
Save their Alpha.
Hunt their would-be Luna.
Or deal with the woman giving birth beneath a fading Blood Moon.
I’m dragged onto a litter. The sky spins above me as they rush me toward the healer’s den. Stone blurs. Torches smear into streaks of fire.
My stomach tightens again.
I cry out, clutching my belly, terror clawing up my throat.
“It’s too early,” I gasp. “Please—my baby—”
“The child is strong,” the healer says, though her voice lacks certainty. “But stress like this—bond shock—Alpha injury—”
She doesn’t finish.
She doesn’t need to.
Kael.
My chest constricts painfully. “Is he alive?”
“Yes,” someone answers. “Barely.”
The word barely echoes like a curse.
The den doors slam shut behind us, cutting off the pack’s noise. It’s quieter here—too quiet. The air smells of herbs, blood, and fear.
They lay me down.
The healer presses glowing hands to my abdomen.
Another contraction hits, brutal and unforgiving.
I sob, nails digging into the furs. “Kael can’t die,” I whisper. “He promised—he promised he’d stand behind me.”
The healer’s expression tightens. “Your bond is unstable. If the Alpha fades—”
“No,” I say fiercely. “He won’t.”
The bond flares suddenly—hot, violent, alive.
Pain lances through my chest, not my belly this time. I gasp as something raw and furious surges through me.
Kael.
I feel him.
Not clearly—but enough.
Blood.
Stone.
Cold.
And beneath it all—rage.
“He’s fighting,” I whisper hoarsely. “Even now.”
The healer freezes. “You can feel him?”
I nod weakly. “He’s not letting go.”
A howl splits the night outside—deep, agonized, unmistakably Alpha.
The den trembles.
My heart leaps painfully. “That was him.”
Hope surges—and with it, another crushing contraction.
I scream again.
“Push,” the healer commands. “Lyra, you have to push.”
I shake my head, tears streaming. “I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” she snaps. “You are stronger than this pain.”
Strength.
I think of exile.
Cold nights.
Hunger.
The humiliation of rejection.
I think of Selene’s smile as she leapt.
I think of Kael’s voice, low and broken: I never stopped choosing you.
I roar as I push, something wild tearing loose inside me.
The bond flares brighter—violent, incandescent.
Outside, wolves howl in response.
The pack feels it.
They feel me.
The pain crescendos until I’m certain I’ll break apart.
Then—
A cry.
Thin. Sharp. Alive.
For one suspended heartbeat, everything stops.
The healer’s eyes widen.
“She lives,” she breathes. “The child—she lives.”
A sob rips out of me, raw and shattered. “Let me see her. Please.”
The healer lifts a tiny, blood-slick bundle and places her against my chest.
She’s small. Fragile.
Perfect.
Dark hair. Tiny fingers curling instinctively against my skin.
My daughter.
Emotion crashes through me so violently I can barely breathe. I laugh and cry at the same time, pressing my lips to her damp forehead.
“You’re safe,” I whisper. “I’ve got you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
As if answering me, the bond surges again—harder this time.
Not pain.
Command.
The den doors burst open.
The room floods with power so heavy it steals the breath from my lungs.
Kael stands in the doorway.
Blood-streaked. Wounded. Barely upright.
But alive.
The entire den drops to their knees.
Alpha dominance slams outward like a living thing.
“Out,” Kael growls. “Everyone.”
The healer hesitates. “Alpha, you’re injured—”
“Out.”
They flee instantly.
The door closes.
Silence crashes down.
Kael staggers forward, eyes locked on me—and on the child in my arms.
Emotion fractures his control.
He drops to his knees beside the bed, shaking.
“She’s—” His voice breaks. “She survived.”
I nod, tears spilling again. “She waited for you.”
He reaches out, trembling, then stops—fear flickering across his face. “May I?”
I shift the child toward him.
The moment his fingers brush her skin, the bond explodes.
Not violently.
Completely.
The room floods with warmth, power, certainty.
Kael gasps, forehead dropping to the bed. “Mine,” he whispers. “Both of you.”
I swallow hard. “You don’t get to whisper it anymore.”
He looks up, eyes blazing silver. “Then I’ll roar it.”
He stands with effort, turning toward the door.
“I reject the Council,” he says coldly. “I reject their laws. I reject any claim that threatens my mate or my child.”
My breath catches.
He lifts his voice—Alpha command carrying beyond stone, beyond walls.
“Lyra Vale is my Luna.”
The world seems to tilt.
“And this child,” he continues, voice iron-hard, “is my heir.”
A collective howl erupts outside—shocked, reverent, fearful.
Kael turns back to me, softer now. “I should have done it sooner.”
“Yes,” I say quietly. “You should have.”
Pain flickers across his face. “I will make it right.”
I hold his gaze. “Then start by ending Selene.”
His jaw tightens. “She ran.”
“I know,” I say. “She threatened our child.”
The air in the room turns lethal.
“Then she has declared war,” Kael says.
He reaches out, pressing his forehead gently to mine—and then to our daughter’s.
“She will not touch you,” he vows. “I will tear the world apart first.”
Outside, thunder rolls—low and ominous.
The Blood Moon fades beyond the clouds, but something darker has taken its place.
Because Selene is alive.
And now—
So is the Luna.
- Writer
