The child he denied
1446 Words
Chapter 3
The pain doesn’t fade.
It sharpens.
It coils low in my abdomen, tight and merciless, stealing my breath in short, panicked bursts. Rain slicks my skin, soaking through my clothes, chilling me to the bone—but the fire inside me burns hotter with every second.
I curl inward, pressing my forehead to the damp earth.
“No,” I whisper again, as if denial alone can hold my body together. “Please… not now.”
Another wave hits.
White-hot.
I gasp, fingers digging into the mud as my vision blurs. The forest tilts. The rain sounds too loud, too distant, like I’m sinking underwater.
This can’t be happening.
Not after everything.
I force myself to breathe slowly, counting through clenched teeth. The healer’s lessons echo faintly in my mind—stress can trigger early complications, especially in werewolves. Especially after trauma.
Rejection trauma.
Exile trauma.
Public humiliation trauma.
I choke on a sob.
“Stay,” I whisper to the life inside me. “Please stay.”
A twig snaps.
My head jerks up.
Fear cuts through the pain like ice.
I scan the darkness, heart slamming violently against my ribs. The rain makes it hard to see, the forest alive with shadows and movement. Every instinct screams danger.
Rogues.
Kael warned me.
I scramble clumsily to my feet, nearly collapsing as another cramp tears through me. I stagger back against the tree, forcing myself upright, eyes burning as I search for a weapon.
There’s nothing.
Another sound—closer now.
Low voices.
Male.
My pulse roars in my ears.
I push off the tree and run.
The forest fights me immediately—slick roots, low branches, uneven ground. Each step sends pain screaming through my body, but terror drives me forward. I don’t know where I’m going. I just know I can’t stay.
“Did you hear that?” one of them mutters behind me.
“Yes,” another replies, amused. “Sounds like prey.”
My breath comes out in ragged sobs.
I run harder.
My foot slips on wet leaves, and I go down hard, the impact knocking the air from my lungs. Pain explodes through my abdomen, blinding and vicious.
I scream.
Footsteps pound closer.
“Found her,” someone says.
Strong hands grab my arm, yanking me up roughly. I cry out, instinctively curling around my stomach.
“Well, well,” a rough voice drawls. “An exiled pack wolf wandering rogue land alone.”
My vision clears just enough to make out three figures—dirty, scarred, eyes gleaming with hunger. Rogues. Unbound. Lawless.
“Please,” I whisper. Pride dies easily when survival is on the line. “I’m hurt.”
One of them laughs. “Looks like it.”
Another leans closer, sniffing the air. His eyes widen. “She’s pregnant.”
Interest sharpens instantly.
“Lucky night,” the first says. “An Alpha’s scent still clinging to her, too.”
My blood runs cold.
“Don’t touch me,” I say weakly.
They laugh again.
Then the air shifts.
Pressure slams down like an invisible force, crushing and absolute.
The rogues freeze.
A growl rolls through the forest—deep, furious, unmistakably Alpha.
Kael.
He moves out of the darkness like a storm given flesh, eyes blazing silver, power rippling off him in violent waves. Rain slicks his dark hair, his clothes soaked, his expression lethal.
“Release her,” he commands.
The rogues hesitate.
Big mistake.
Kael lunges.
The first rogue doesn’t even have time to scream before Kael snaps his neck with brutal efficiency. Bone cracks loud and final.
The second shifts partially, claws tearing free—but Kael is faster. He rips through him with savage precision, blood splattering the rain-soaked ground.
The third tries to run.
Kael catches him easily, hauling him back by the throat.
“She is under my protection,” Kael snarls. “Remember that—if you live long enough to remember anything.”
He slams the rogue into a tree, knocking him unconscious, then lets the body drop.
Silence falls, broken only by the rain and my ragged breathing.
Kael turns to me.
The sight of him—powerful, dangerous, furious—makes my knees give out. I collapse, pain ripping through me again.
Kael is there instantly, catching me before I hit the ground.
His arms are solid around me, warm, steady.
“Lyra,” he says sharply. “Talk to me.”
“I—I can’t,” I gasp. “It hurts. Something’s wrong.”
His jaw tightens, fear flashing naked and raw across his face.
He scoops me up without hesitation, cradling me against his chest like something precious and fragile.
“We’re leaving,” he says. “Now.”
“I told you,” I whisper weakly, my head lolling against his shoulder. “I won’t go back.”
“You’re not going back,” he says grimly. “You’re coming with me.”
“Kael—”
“I am not losing you,” he snaps. “Or my child.”
The words slam into me harder than any pain.
My child.
His child.
He runs, fast and relentless, the forest blurring around us. I cling weakly to his shirt, every jolt sending agony through me, but his arms never loosen.
“Stay with me,” he orders, voice low and urgent. “Do not let go.”
“I’m trying,” I whisper.
His scent surrounds me—pine, smoke, power—familiar enough to make my chest ache. My body betrays me again, leaning into his warmth despite everything.
We break through the trees into a hidden clearing.
Torches flare to life.
Guards.
Kael’s guards.
They straighten instantly when they see him.
“She’s bleeding,” one of them says, alarmed.
Kael snarls. “Get the healer. Now.”
He lowers me carefully onto a fur-lined pallet inside a small, concealed shelter. The rain is shut out, but the pain remains, sharp and relentless.
My vision swims.
“Kael,” I whisper, fingers clutching his sleeve. “If something happens—”
“Don’t,” he says harshly. “Don’t say it.”
He kneels beside me, one large hand covering mine, grounding and steady. I’ve never seen him like this—raw, unguarded, afraid.
The healer rushes in, her face pale as she examines me.
“Severe stress,” she mutters. “And the rejection trauma—goddess, Kael, what were you thinking?”
His jaw tightens, but he says nothing.
“She needs rest,” the healer continues. “And protection. The pregnancy is fragile.”
“Can you save the child?” I whisper.
The healer hesitates.
Kael’s grip tightens painfully around my hand.
“Do everything,” he orders. “Anything.”
The healer nods and gets to work, herbs and incantations filling the air.
Time stretches painfully.
I drift in and out, pain dulling slowly, exhaustion dragging me under.
When I surface again, the pain is quieter—but the tension in the room is unbearable.
The healer meets my eyes. “For now, the child is stable.”
Relief crashes over me so hard I sob.
Kael exhales shakily, pressing his forehead briefly to my hand before catching himself.
He straightens, the Alpha mask sliding back into place.
“You will stay here,” he says. “Under my protection.”
I look up at him, tears streaking my face. “And Selene?”
His eyes darken dangerously.
“She doesn’t know,” he says. “And she won’t—if I have anything to say about it.”
My heart pounds.
“You’re lying to your pack,” I whisper.
“I’ve been doing that for longer than you know,” he replies quietly.
Our eyes lock.
The air between us hums—dangerous, intimate, unresolved.
“This changes nothing,” I say weakly. “You still rejected me.”
“Yes,” he agrees.
Then, softer, “But it changes everything else.”
Footsteps echo outside the shelter—urgent, hurried.
A guard appears at the entrance, face tight with tension.
“Alpha,” he says. “The Council has arrived. And Selene is with them.”
My blood turns to ice.
Kael’s gaze snaps to mine, fierce and protective.
“Stay here,” he orders. “Do not move.”
He turns toward the entrance, power rolling off him like a living thing.
As he steps into the torchlight to face his enemies, I clutch my stomach, heart racing.
Because if Selene finds me—
This war will no longer be quiet.
And neither will Kael’s lies.
- Writer
