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ZANDER
We thought this was a rescue mission. In and out. Tear down the bunker, free the prisoners, end the nightmare.
We didn’t expect her.
She was barely conscious when we found her—crumpled in a blood-soaked cage, barely breathing, her skin mottled with bruises and burns. She’d been strapped with silver restraints, even though she’s not one of us.
Human.
But she didn’t look fragile. She looked like a soldier who’d survived her own private war.
The medics say she might not wake up.
We brought her home anyway.
⸻
ZAYDEN
I’ve never seen someone so broken still manage to protect others.
Amber told us everything.
The way she’d take the punishments to shield the other girls. The way she passed food through the bars when she thought no one was watching. The way she endured that bastard Carl’s torture—again and again—just to keep the others safe.
“She saved the kids,” Amber whispered to me last night. “They only fed them because she made them.”
We found the children three levels up. Weak, but alive. Without her, they would’ve died.
She’s just a human. But the heart beating in her chest? It’s stronger than most wolves I’ve ever met.
⸻
ZAVIER
The scan nearly made the healer drop the monitor.
Half-werewolf. Alpha-blooded. Male.
But the mother is fully human.
And yet… the pup is thriving inside her.
That shouldn’t be possible. Hybrids usually miscarry. Their bodies reject the change. But she—this woman we don’t even know—has been starving, tortured, broken… and still, the child lives.
The healer said she has the instincts of a Luna, even if she doesn’t carry the mark.
It makes no sense.
And yet, it does.
⸻
ZANDER
We haven’t left her side in days. The three of us take turns sitting with her. Guarding her.
At first, I thought it was duty. Gratitude.
But now?
Now it feels personal.
Too personal.
The way her scent lingers—sweet but tangled in blood and pain—it’s etched into my head. My wolf stirs every time I get near her, restless, pacing, aching.
But it’s wrong.
She’s human. She’s not supposed to feel like… this.
Like home.
⸻
ZAYDEN
She hasn’t stirred in over 48 hours. But tonight, when I touched her hand, her fingers twitched.
Just once.
And my wolf stilled.
We don’t know who she is. We don’t know how she got pregnant. And we sure as hell don’t know what the Moon Goddess is trying to tell us.
But we do know one thing.
We won’t let her die.
⸻
ZAVIER
Carl escaped the bunker collapse. His scent’s gone rogue, scattered into the wild. We’ll find him. Make him bleed for every scar he left on her.
But for now, our priority is her.
She’s not just some captive.
She’s the thread pulling at something ancient, something sacred.
We were all broken after losing our first mate.
But when I look at her—this unconscious, battered human girl with an alpha’s child in her belly—something in me dares to hope again.
We don’t know what she means to us yet.
But I know this much:
She’s not just a survivor.
She’s our reckoning.
- Writer
