He Rejected Me, Then Claimed Our Son

Chapter Three The Wolves at the Door

Every candle in the cabin died at once. Darkness swallowed the room whole. For one breath, there was nothing.

No firelight. No moonlight.

No sound but the rain clawing at the roof and the terrible scrape of claws dragging down the other side of the door.

I held my newborn son against my chest and forgot how to breathe. Lior did not cry.

That frightened me more than the voice outside.

He had been born only minutes ago, tiny and warm and damp beneath the blanket Maera had wrapped around him. He should have been screaming. He should have been searching for milk. He should have been red-faced and helpless like any newborn pup.

Instead, he stared up at me with silver eyes that glowed faintly in the dark. Too aware.

Too calm.

Too much like he already knew we were being hunted.

Maera stood near the door, one hand lifted, her fingers curled in the air as if holding back something I could not see. The old healer had gone completely still. Her green eyes reflected the silver glow coming from Lior’s gaze.

Outside, the creature breathed against the wood. Deep.

Wet. Hungry.

Then the voice came again. “We smell royal blood.”

My arms tightened around Lior so hard I feared I would hurt him. I forced myself to loosen my grip, but every instinct inside me screamed to hide him beneath my skin, behind my ribs, inside my heart, anywhere no one could touch him.

Royal blood.

The words made no sense. I was Nyra Elowen.

An orphan. A rejected mate. A she-wolf with a faint scent and a quiet wolf. I had no royal blood. No noble family. No powerful lineage. No ancient claim to anything except pain.

And yet my son’s eyes shone like captured moonlight. Maera turned her head slightly.

“Do not speak,” she mouthed. I nodded.

My body trembled beneath the blankets. Blood still warmed my thighs. Pain throbbed through my hips and stomach, duller now but still fierce enough to make my vision blur whenever I moved.

I had just given birth.

I could barely sit upright. I could not run.

I could not fight.

And there were wolves at the door. The claws scraped again.

Slower this time.

As if whoever stood outside enjoyed making us wait. A second voice joined the first, thinner and crueler. “Open the door, hedge witch.”

Maera’s jaw tightened.

“Your wards are old,” the first voice rasped. “Your bones are older. Do not die for blood that is not yours.”

Maera did not answer. The door shook violently.

I flinched, and Lior’s tiny fingers curled against my skin. A strange warmth moved through my chest.

Not from the fire. The hearth was almost dead now, only a few red coals glowing weakly beneath the ash.

This warmth came from him. From Lior.

It pulsed once against my heart. Then again.

My breath caught.

For one impossible second, I felt something stretch between us. Not the mate bond. Nothing like the bond Cassian had torn apart in front of the pack.

This was softer. Deeper.

Unbreakable.

A silver thread tied from my heart to my son’s. The moment I noticed it, Lior’s eyes brightened. Maera inhaled sharply.

The thing outside went silent. Too silent.

Then it snarled. “There.”

My blood turned cold. “It is awake.”

Maera spun toward me. “Cover his eyes.”

I did not question her. I pulled the blanket higher, shielding Lior’s face against my chest. The silver glow vanished.

Outside, the wolves exploded into movement.

Bodies slammed against the cabin walls. The wood groaned. Something climbed onto the roof, claws digging into old timber. Another creature threw itself against the door so hard dust rained from the ceiling.

I bit down on my lip to stop myself from crying out. Maera lifted both hands.

Her voice dropped into a language I did not understand. The air changed.

It thickened.

The cabin walls gave a low, aching hum, like an old song being remembered by tired bones. Symbols I had not noticed before began to glow along the doorframe and windows. They were carved into the wood, hidden beneath age and dust.

Wards. Magic.

I had heard of it, of course. All wolves had.

Most packs hated witches but ran to them when curses needed breaking, wounds needed healing, or secrets needed burying. Cassian’s mother had always said magic was a filthy thing used by desperate creatures.

But Luna Mireya had many opinions that served only Luna Mireya. Another crash shook the cabin.

One of the windows cracked. Maera cursed beneath her breath.

“They should not have found us this quickly.”

I looked down at Lior, still hidden beneath the blanket. “Is it because of him?”

Maera did not answer. That was enough.

Tears burned my eyes. “He was just born.”

“I know.”

“He has done nothing.”

“That has never stopped men from fearing power.” The roof shook again.

A rain of dust and dried herbs fell from the rafters. Lior whimpered softly against my chest.

The tiny sound entered me like a blade. My wolf stirred.

Weakly at first.

Then with more force.

All my life, my wolf had been quiet. Gentle. Almost absent. Other she-wolves described their wolves as wild sisters inside their souls, laughing, snarling, craving moonlight and freedom. Mine had always felt distant, as if she lived behind a locked door.

Tonight, that door had cracked.

Not opened. Not fully.

But cracked enough for me to hear her. Protect pup.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

“How?” I whispered without meaning to. Maera glanced at me sharply.

“What did you say?” I shook my head.

The door splintered.

A black claw punched through the wood. I screamed.

Maera thrust her hand forward, and the claw burst into silver sparks. The creature outside howled, a horrible sound of pain and rage.

But the door was damaged now.

Cold wind slipped through the c***k, carrying the scent of wet fur, rotten leaves, and bloodlust. My stomach rolled.

Rogues.

Not ordinary rogues either.

These wolves smelled wrong. Sour. Twisted. Like their bodies had been left too long beneath a dead moon.

Maera backed away from the door, breathing hard. “How many?” I asked.

“Too many.”

“Can your wards hold?”

She looked at the cracked door. “For a little while.”

“How long is a little?”

The wall to our left shook as another body slammed into it. Maera’s silence was answer enough.

I forced myself upright.

Pain sliced through my lower body so sharply I nearly blacked out. My arms tightened around Lior as the room spun.

Maera rushed toward me. “Lie down.”

“No.”

“You are bleeding.” “I know.”

“You just gave birth.” “I know that too.”

“Then stop trying to be brave and let me think.” A hysterical laugh rose in my throat.

“Brave?” I looked down at my son. “I am terrified.”

“Good.” Maera pulled a dark cloak from a wooden peg and wrapped it around my shoulders. “Fear keeps fools alive when courage gets them killed.”

The door shook again.

This time, the top hinge bent inward. Maera looked toward the back of the cabin. “There is a cellar beneath the rug.”

Hope sparked inside me.

“We can hide?”

“No.” She grabbed a leather satchel and began stuffing herbs, cloths, and small glass bottles into it. “You can escape.”

I stared at her. “What about you?”

“I will hold them here.” “No.”

She ignored me and crossed to the corner, kicking aside a faded rug with one boot. Beneath it was a trapdoor with an iron ring.

“No,” I said again, louder.

Maera yanked the trapdoor open. Cold air breathed up from below.

“The tunnel leads beneath the eastern roots and comes out near the river. Follow the water south. Do not stop until dawn.”

I shook my head. “I cannot leave you.” “You can, and you will.”

“You helped me.”

“And I am helping you again by telling you not to waste the chance.” Another c***k tore through the cabin.

The door bent inward.

A wolf’s eye appeared through the gap. Yellow.

Bloodshot. Mad.

It fixed on me.

On the bundle in my arms.

The creature began to laugh. Not a human laugh.

Not a wolf’s growl. Something between both.

“There he is,” it whispered. “Little moon prince.” Lior made a small sound.

The creature’s eye rolled toward him.

I turned my body, blocking my son from view. Something inside me snapped.

Not loudly.

Not like the mate bond when Cassian broke it. This was quieter.

Colder.

A thread pulled tight and cut through fear. “No,” I said.

Maera froze.

The rogue at the door stopped laughing. My voice had not been loud.

It had not even sounded like me. But the cabin answered.

The last embers in the hearth flared silver-white. The carved symbols along the walls burned brighter. The air trembled.

For one heartbeat, everything bowed inward.

Toward me. Toward Lior.

Then pain crashed through my body, and the strength vanished as quickly as it had come. I swayed.

Maera caught my elbow before I fell. Her face was pale.

“Nyra,” she whispered. “Who was your mother?” The question struck me strangely.

“My mother?” “Her name.”

“Elowen.” My thoughts scattered beneath pain and fear. “Saira Elowen. She died when I was little.”

Maera closed her eyes.

Something like grief crossed her face.

“Saira,” she breathed. “You foolish, brilliant woman.” I grabbed her wrist. “You knew my mother?”

The door split down the middle.

A massive black wolf shoved its head through the broken wood.

Its teeth were yellow. Its muzzle was scarred. Its eyes locked on Lior with starving delight. Maera shoved me toward the cellar.

“Go!”

“But my mother—”

“Go, daughter of Saira, before everything she died for dies with you!” A thousand questions burned inside me.

None mattered more than the baby in my arms.

I clutched Lior to my chest and lowered myself into the cellar. Every movement was agony. My legs trembled so badly I nearly slipped on the ladder. Maera held my shoulder until my feet touched cold earth below.

The tunnel was narrow and black. Too black.

I looked up.

Maera stood above me, framed by the dying cabin light and the broken door behind her.

“Take this.” She dropped the leather satchel down. It landed near my feet with a soft thud. “There is dried milkroot, feverleaf, bandages, a knife, and enough coin to get you past the first human town.”

Human town.

The words barely made sense. “Where do I go?”

“Anywhere he cannot smell you.” “Cassian?”

Her eyes hardened. “Them.”

Behind her, the rogue wolf forced one shoulder through the door. Wood splintered.

Maera whispered a word, and a line of silver fire flashed across the threshold. The rogue screamed and fell back.

But more waited behind it. Too many shadows.

Too many eyes. “Maera,” I cried.

She looked down at me.

For the first time since she had carried me into the cabin, she smiled.

It was sad.

“Tell no one what his eyes look like.” I nodded, crying now.

“And tell no one what you heard inside the forest.” “How do you know I heard something?”

“Because your blood has started remembering.”

Before I could ask what that meant, a howl tore through the cabin. Not from outside.

From far away. Deep in the forest. Cassian.

My chest twisted so violently I almost doubled over. He was still searching.

Still calling.

The mate bond was broken, but my body knew him. My wolf knew him. Even now, even after everything, his howl slid under my skin like a hand reaching through darkness.

The rogues heard it too. Their snarls changed.

Agitated. Afraid.

The scarred wolf outside snapped its jaws. “Alpha comes.”

Maera’s eyes sharpened.

“Good,” she said. “Then they will be distracted.” I looked up at her.

“Cassian will find me.”

“No,” she said. “Not if the river takes your scent.” The trapdoor began to lower.

Panic seized me. “Wait!”

Maera paused.

“My mother,” I said desperately. “What was she?” The old healer stared down at me for a long second. Then she answered.

“Loved.”

The trapdoor slammed shut. Darkness swallowed me.

For a moment, I could not move.

The tunnel pressed close around me, damp and cold and smelling of roots. Above, the cabin exploded into chaos. Wolves snarled. Wood cracked. Maera’s voice rose in sharp, powerful commands. Silver light flashed through the thin gaps around the trapdoor.

Then something heavy slammed down overhead. Dust fell onto my face.

Lior whimpered.

That tiny sound forced life back into me.

I adjusted the blanket around him, making sure his eyes were covered, then grabbed the satchel and began to move.

The tunnel was so low I had to crouch. Each step sent pain through my body. Blood trickled down my legs. My bare feet sank into cold mud. The air was tight, and roots brushed my shoulders like fingers.

I wanted to lie down. I wanted to sleep.

I wanted to wake up in Cassian’s bed three days ago, before the letter, before Valeria’s smile, before his eyes turned cold.

But Lior’s breath warmed my chest. So I kept going.

Behind me, Maera screamed. I stopped.

The sound ripped through the earth, sharp and terrible. My hand flew to the tunnel wall.

“Maera,” I whispered. No answer.

Only snarls.

Then a burst of silver light flashed behind me, so bright it turned the dirt walls pale for a heartbeat.

After that, silence. Horrible, endless silence.

My tears fell onto Lior’s blanket. “I am sorry,” I whispered.

I did not know whether I was speaking to Maera, my son, my mother, or the girl I had been before Cassian destroyed her.

Maybe all of them.

The tunnel sloped downward.

Water began to seep around my ankles. The air grew colder.

Ahead, I heard rushing. The river.

Relief nearly knocked me to my knees.

I pushed forward faster, though my body screamed with every step. The tunnel widened slightly, then opened into a low cave mouth hidden behind thick roots and hanging vines.

Beyond it, the river roared beneath the storm.

Black water crashed over stones, swollen by rain, wild and violent. The current was strong enough to drag a grown wolf under.

I stared at it in horror. “No,” I whispered.

The river was not an escape. It was a death sentence.

Behind me, far inside the tunnel, something growled. My blood froze.

One of them had found the trapdoor. Lior stirred.

His blanket slipped.

For one second, his silver eyes opened. The growl behind us stopped.

Then a voice hissed from the darkness. “Found you.”

I turned and ran toward the river. There was nowhere else to go.

Rain slapped my face as I stumbled from the cave. The mud was slick beneath my feet. I held Lior against my chest with one arm and gripped the satchel with the other.

The rogue lunged from the tunnel behind me.

It was in human form now, though barely. Tall and gaunt, with gray skin, torn clothing, and eyes glowing yellow beneath wet black hair. Blood stained its mouth.

Maera’s blood.

Something cold and murderous woke inside me. The rogue smiled.

“Give us the child, little mother.” I backed toward the river.

“Stay away.”

It laughed. “You can barely stand.” True.

My legs shook. My vision blurred. My body was emptying itself of blood and strength. I had nothing.

Nothing but a knife in Maera’s satchel.

I dropped the bag, reached inside with trembling fingers, and closed my hand around the handle.

The rogue saw. Its smile widened.

“You think you can fight me?” “No,” I said.

The river roared behind me. “But I can keep him from you.” The rogue’s face changed.

Before it could move, I stepped backward into the river. Cold swallowed my legs.

The shock stole my breath.

The current grabbed my gown instantly, pulling hard. I staggered, nearly falling, and clutched Lior tighter.

The rogue snarled and leapt.

A black wolf slammed into it from the side.

The impact shook the riverbank. I froze.

The black wolf was enormous.

Larger than any wolf I had ever seen except Cassian’s. Its fur was midnight-dark, its eyes burning gold, its body a blur of rage and power.

Cassian.

My heart lurched before my mind could stop it. He had found us.

He tore into the rogue with a violence that made the night itself seem to flinch. The rogue screamed as Cassian’s jaws closed around its shoulder and threw it across the bank.

Then Cassian turned his head. Our eyes met.

Even in wolf form, I knew him. And he knew me.

His golden eyes dropped to the bundle in my arms. To Lior.

Something passed through his gaze. Shock.

Recognition. Hunger.

Grief.

His wolf took one step toward us. Mine whimpered.

The current pulled harder at my legs.

Cassian shifted mid-step, bones cracking, fur melting into rain-slick skin until the Alpha stood on the riverbank in human form, chest bare, eyes blazing, blood on his mouth.

“Nyra,” he said, voice rough with panic. “Come to me.” I shook my head.

The look on his face cracked something in me. He looked destroyed.

Good, I thought.

Then hated myself because part of me still wanted to go to him. “Please,” he said.

Cassian Veyr did not beg.

Alphas commanded. They demanded. They conquered.

But the man standing in the rain looked at me like he would crawl through broken glass if I asked him to.

Too late.

The rogue behind him twitched. Cassian did not look away from me.

“Give me your hand,” he said. “The river is too strong.” “My son is not safe with you.”

His jaw tightened. “Our son.”

The words hit me like another rejection. I laughed once, broken and bitter.

“You remembered that now?” Pain flashed across his face. “Nyra—”

The rogue rose behind him. “Cassian!” I screamed.

He turned, but the rogue was not aiming for him. It lunged for me.

For Lior.

Everything happened at once. Cassian roared.

The rogue leapt. The river surged.

Lior’s blanket slipped, and his silver eyes opened fully. The world went white.

Not lightning. Not fire.

Moonlight.

It burst from my son’s tiny body and spread across the river like a command. The water beneath me stilled. Completely. The raging current froze around my legs, smooth as glass.

The rogue slammed into an invisible wall inches from my face. Its body flew backward and crashed into a tree.

Cassian froze. So did I.

For one breath, the storm bowed.

The rain hung suspended in the air like tiny diamonds. Lior stared at Cassian.

Cassian stared back at him.

I saw the exact moment he understood. The eyes.

The power.

The blood.

His face went pale.

“What is he?” he whispered. The river moved again.

Violently.

The current ripped my feet from beneath me. I screamed as the water swallowed us.

Cassian shouted my name and dove after us, but the river had already taken me. Cold closed over my head.

My grip tightened around Lior. Darkness rushed past.

Rocks scraped my legs.

The world became water, pain, and the sound of my own heart refusing to stop. Above the roar of the river, I heard Cassian’s voice one last time.

Not through the air. Inside my mind.

Nyra, hold on.

Then another voice answered from somewhere deeper. Older.

Female. Powerful.

No, daughter. Let go.

My eyes flew open beneath the water. Silver light bloomed around Lior.

And the river carried us into the dark.