The Awakening
793 Words
The Shadowborn launched forward—fangs glistening, claws outstretched.
Malcolm’s Lycan roared and met the creature mid-air. Their impact rattled the stone corridor, shattering ancient wall sconces and sending embers flickering through the dark.
Behind him, Mara screamed as another beast clawed its way through the shattered window, crawling like smoke toward her and the baby.
She backed into the corner, clutching her son to her chest, her wolf awake but too weak to shift. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.
“Malcolm!” she cried.
He heard her—but he couldn’t reach her. The first Shadowborn had him pinned, fangs inches from his throat.
Too fast. Too strong.
Mara turned, desperate—until the baby let out a sound she had never heard before.
Not a cry.
A growl.
Low. Ancient. Resonating through the walls.
The Shadowborn paused. So did the one battling Malcolm. For the briefest moment, even the darkness seemed to hesitate.
Mara looked down.
Her son’s eyes were no longer silver.
They were glowing white—pure, radiant, and terrifying.
The creature nearest Mara shrieked and recoiled, as if burned by invisible fire.
Then—
A pulse.
A shockwave erupted from the child’s body, slamming into the Shadowborn with such force it shattered the windows, cracked the ceiling, and sent both beasts flying backward like broken dolls.
Malcolm staggered to his feet, eyes wide.
“What—was that?”
The child, now calm again, blinked up at his mother and giggled.
Outside – The Aftermath
Smoke curled from the edges of the hospital wing.
Nurses ran screaming. Warriors arrived seconds too late.
Michael and Katrina stormed through the shattered entrance, swords drawn, only to freeze at the sight before them.
Two dead Shadowborn creatures—burned and broken.
Mara trembling in a corner, her eyes locked on her son.
Malcolm in Lycan form, chest heaving, blood dripping from his jaw.
Katrina stepped back, stunned. “What the hell happened?”
Malcolm shifted back slowly. “The child. He... protected her. He has power.”
Michael looked down at the beasts. “These things... they're Thea’s. Summoned.”
“She sent them,” Malcolm growled, “and he destroyed them—without touching them.”
Katrina’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not normal. Not even for a Lycan heir.”
Malcolm met her gaze. “Exactly.”
Later That Night – Malcolm’s Private Estate
They moved Mara and the baby under heavy guard, deep into the woods where only Malcolm’s most trusted could enter. The air was thick with tension. Mara hadn’t spoken since the attack.
She stood in the nursery—quiet, arms folded—watching her son sleep in a new cradle carved from obsidian and moonwood.
“I saw it,” she finally said, voice flat. “Something in him… woke up.”
Malcolm nodded. “He’s not ordinary.”
“No. He’s not.” Her hands trembled. “What does that mean, Malcolm? What *is* he?”
Malcolm didn’t answer immediately. He turned to the window, gazing into the darkness beyond.
“When I was younger,” he said slowly, “there were whispers in the ancient scrolls. Prophecies of a child born from a cursed line and a feral king. A child with no scent… until his awakening. A child who would mark the end of one era and the beginning of another.”
Mara stared at him. “You think… he’s that child?”
“I think,” Malcolm replied, “Thea does.”
Elsewhere – Thea’s Lair
Thea Mark stood before a mirror made of bone and moon glass. Her reflection flickered with fury.
“The child,” she hissed. “The child.”
One of her witches approached nervously. “He has awakened.”
“Too soon,” Thea whispered. “I needed more time.”
She clenched her fist and the mirror cracked.
“But no matter. A storm awakens before it crashes. Let him grow stronger. Let them believe they’re safe.”
She turned, her cloak billowing with shadows. “Send word to the coven in the east. We will not stop with curses and shadows.”
She smiled, teeth sharp like glass.
“This time, we send death itself.”
Back in Blackridge
Malcolm kissed the sleeping child’s forehead and turned to Mara.
“I’ll double the guard.”
“I don’t think guards will stop what’s coming,” she whispered.
He took her hands in his, holding her gaze.
“Then we’ll fight together.”
She nodded… but in the far corners of the room, the shadows didn’t retreat.
They listened.
They watched.
And one of them whispered softly, almost lovingly—
“You can’t protect what was never yours to begin with…”
To Be Continued
- Writer
