The Royal Wolves

She Did What?

Queen Erin’s POV

“Jo, will you please stop pacing! They’ll be back before we know it,” I try to soothe him for what has to be the hundredth time, and guide him to the sofa and encourage him to sit down. The benefit of tending to Jo means that I’m not focussing on my own worries, anxiety and fear for my soul sister.

“It’s not just that she’s out there. Did she tell you that she’s been having visions since her pregnancy started? She believes the baby is gifted,” he tells me as he sits with a sigh.

“Like premonitions?” I ask him.

“Yes. Mostly they’ve been run of the mill, day to day things, a kind of déjà-vu for her. But then there have been other visions that she believes is the Moon Goddess communicating with her. She’s gone out there because of her belief that the Gods and Goddesses have a greater plan for her. And now, all I can do is prey that she is alright. Because….” He begins to cry. “If this… if this is perinatal mental health, then she is…. In danger,” he weeps.

“Perinatal mental health?”

“At times, the hormone surges in pregnancy can create mental health problems. For most women, it’s an increase in anxiety, frustration, joy, panic and so many other day to day emotions that just become heightened and put you on an emotional rollercoaster. For the rare few, the hormone surge can cause a temporary delirium; a belief that their baby or themselves are special, that they have supernatural gifts, or even worse that the baby is possessed with an evil spirit. At times, these women require specialist hospital stays and interventions to remain safe. What if she isn’t gifted and has put herself and our child in danger? How will I live without them?” He rambles, crossing between Doctor Jo and Jo the worried mate of Flo.

“I don’t believe for one minute that Kate would let Flo put herself or the baby at risk if it wasn’t true. I appreciate your experience as a Doctor, but please hang on to the fact that there’s a supernatural element at play here, that we don’t understand. They will be due to return, how about we walk to the gate to meet them?” I’m eager to distract us both and they should be due to return shortly. It was, after all, a simple mission.

“Thank you, Erin,” he smiles weakly.

They’ve been gone for a few hours now, and some of the packs are pretty close. It’ll take us a little while to reach the gates and the walk and feeling as though we are doing something will hopefully pass the time and ease the worry, if only for a little while.

Together we walk to the gates, my arm looped through his as I not only offer him some silent strength, but also use him to maintain my balance. While my bump is smaller than my last pregnancy, I’m still carrying an Alpha pup and I’m the size that of a house now that I’m eight months. It’s not just the carrying extra weight, my hips protest most movement these days and hitting uneven ground not only throws me off balance, but also sends a jolting wave of pain through me. Add into the equation the Braxton hicks contractions I’ve been getting this week, I need the movement as much as I need to rest. The added stress of the situation has brought them on, yet again, and our steady pace helps alleviate some of the discomfort. We make small talk about the pro’s and con’s of each gender and decide that Jo will be blessed to have either, but that he will to prematurely grey if they have a little girl with as much fire as Flo.

The sounds of our men and women reach our ears and I increase our pace. “Steady, Erin,” Jo cautions me and tries to slow us down.

“Hush, now. I need to see them, my hormones can’t take much longer without seeing them,” I laugh, but there is too much noise and something feels off. I can’t slow down, I have to see them.

The moment they rush through the gates, I know something has happened. Something is wrong. Some wear a look of utter relief to be in a place of safety, some look petrified and others are stained in blood. My eyes scan the crowd entering our land, looking for just a glimpse of them, my heart deflating a little more when each glance doesn’t spot them. Hundreds have now come through, and I realise that Stefan must be waiting at the rear, keeping them safe.

After what feels like an eternity, my eyes finally find him and the group he is with. I let out a breath of relief when I see Stefan, Darran, William and Sadie. But where is Flo? I pull on Jo’s hand and make my way toward them. “Not here. William is going to manage the new arrivals and come back to the gate for the next groups, the rest of us will meet in the meeting room,” Darran tells us kindly, as Stefan provides instruction to the guards at the gate.

“But…” Jo begins to question.

“Not here please. I promise I will tell you everything, but in the meeting room,” Darran interrupts Jo, with an apologetic but firm look.

Reluctantly, Jo and I turn and follow Darran to the pack house. I feel Jo’s hand tighten around mine and hear his breath hitch as he struggles to maintain composure. “Let’s move quickly,” I hear Stefan say, a moment before I’m in his arms. “I don’t want to keep Jo waiting,” he adds as he paces forwards.

“Thank you,” Jo whispers and matches Stefan’s pace.

The packhouse is loud, busy and appears disorganised as everyone scrambles to complete their tasks. We don’t speak to anyone as our group rushes to the meeting room.

“She’s dead isn’t she?” Jo falls to his knees and sobs as the door closes.

“She wasn’t when I last saw her. We need your help to figure out what’s going on,” Darran says as he kneels beside Jo and holds his shoulder in a brotherly way.

“What do you mean when you last saw her?” He looks up through wet eyelashes, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“She willingly went with the Werebears,” Darran tells him.

“She did what?” Jo and I gasp in unison.