Chapter Three
1236 Words
ROWAN
The first rays of dawn slipped through the cottage windows as I folded the last of my clothes into a worn leather satchel.
It wasn't much.
A few simple dresses.
My pouch of medicinal herbs.
Several books Elder Mira had lent me over the years. And a small wooden wolf Damien had carved for me when we were children.
My fingers tightened around it.
For a long moment, I simply stared.
Then I placed it back on the shelf.
Some memories deserved to stay behind.
"So..."
Elder Mira tied the mouth of another travel bag before handing it to me. "You've made your decision."
I nodded.
"If I stay, every corner of this pack will remind me of what I lost." I chuckled bitterly, "The Moonlit Grove. The academy. The old moon tree. Plus, no one wants me here anyways. I'd be doing my parents a favour by disappearing for good."
Elder Mira's gaze softened. "Then don't stay where your heart is no longer welcome."
She reached beneath the table and placed a small pouch of gold coins into my hand. "I've been saving these for years."
I immediately tried to return them. "I can't—"
"You can." She gently closed my fingers over the pouch. "I have no children, Rowan. You've always been the closest thing I've ever had to a granddaughter."
Tears stung my eyes. I threw my arms around her.
Elder Mira stroked my hair. "You'll be alright."
"How can you be so sure?" I mumured faintly.
"Because sometimes the Moon Goddess closes one door..." I could feel her smiling against my neck, "...only because she's preparing to open another."
A faint smile tugged at my lips. "I hope you're right."
"You'll write to me?" She asked softly.
"Every month."
"You promise?" She asked again.
"I promise."
She smiled. "Good."
I reached for my travel bag. The moment I lifted it...A wave of dizziness struck me.
The room tilted violently.
I blinked. "E-Elder Mira..."
The floor lurched beneath my feet.
My vision blurred. A sharp ringing filled my ears. Then...Everything went black.
...
The first thing I felt was the scent of lavender. The second...Was a cool cloth resting against my forehead.
My eyelids fluttered open.
The wooden ceiling of the healer's cottage came slowly into focus. "Elder..."
I tried to sit up.
A gentle hand pressed me back onto the bed. "Easy."
"You've been unconscious for nearly an four hours."
I frowned. "What happened?"
Elder Mira didn't answer immediately. Instead, she moved toward the small table beside the bed. Several crushed moon herbs lay scattered across it.
A wooden bowl of water.
And...
A tiny glass vial filled with pale blue liquid.
My heart skipped. She never used moonwater unless she suspected...
No.
Surely not.
"Elder Mira?"
She turned slowly. For the first time since I'd known her...She looked shaken.
"Rowan..." She hesitated.
Then she walked back to my bedside and took my hand. "I've delivered hundreds of pups. I know the signs."
A strange feeling settled in my stomach.
My breathing grew shallow. "What... signs?"
She squeezed my fingers gently. "You're with child."
Silence.
I stared at her, certain I'd misheard. "...What?"
Elder Mira's eyes glistened. "You are pregnant, Rowan. The child is approximately five weeks along."
My world stopped.
Five weeks...
My lips parted soundlessly.
Six weeks ago...
Damien had held me beneath the old moon tree. We'd f****d a couple of times that night—raw, urgent, his body driving into mine under the moonlight until we were both spent and trembling. He'd kissed me like I was the only woman in existence. Promised that nothing would ever separate us.
My hand instinctively drifted to my still-flat stomach, my fingertips trembling against the fabric of my dress. I searched Elder Mira's face, desperately hoping to find some sign that she was mistaken, that this was simply another cruel misunderstanding brought about by the shock of everything that had happened.
Instead, I found only quiet certainty.
A shaky laugh escaped my lips, though there was no humor in it. "I... I'm pregnant?"
The words sounded foreign, as though someone else had spoken them.
Elder Mira gave a slow nod. "You are."
The room seemed to close in around me. Only hours ago, I had stood beneath the full moon believing I was about to spend the rest of my life with the man I loved. Now, the bond between us had been shattered before the entire pack, and I was being told that I carried his child.
It was too much.
I rose abruptly from the bed and took several unsteady steps backward, shaking my head as panic tightened its grip around my chest. "I can't have this baby."
The words left my mouth before I had fully realized I was thinking them.
Elder Mira's expression softened with concern. "Rowan..."
"No." I pressed both hands against my temples, trying desperately to silence the whirlwind of thoughts crashing through my mind. "Please don't try to change my mind."
Tears blurred my vision. "I have nothing left."
"My mate rejected me before the entire pack because he believed my sister was destined to bear the child of the prophecy. In a few months, Seraphina will undoubtedly be carrying his heir, and the whole pack will celebrate them as though they were blessed by the Moon Goddess herself."
A bitter smile tugged at my lips. "And what about my child?"
I looked down at my stomach, unable to reconcile the life Elder Mira claimed was growing inside me with the emptiness consuming my own heart.
"He would be nothing more than the forgotten son of a rejected woman. Every time people looked at him, they would remember that his father chose another. They would whisper that he was born from a mistake."
My voice broke. "I can't condemn an innocent child to that kind of life."
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to continue.
"I'm only nineteen, Elder Mira. I was still dreaming about my own future yesterday. I don't know how to be someone's mother, and I certainly don't know how to raise a child alone."
Silence settled over the cottage.
Elder Mira watched me for a long moment before releasing a weary sigh. There was sadness in her eyes, but no judgment. "I had hoped you would feel differently once the shock wore off," she admitted quietly. "But I also know that no one can make this decision except you."
She crossed the room and unlocked a small wooden cabinet I had never seen her open before. From the very back, she retrieved a tiny crystal vial filled with a dark liquid.
She held it carefully, almost reverently.
"This is brewed from moonvine root, winter sage, and silver blossom," she explained. "If taken during the earliest weeks of pregnancy, it will end the pregnancy before the bond between mother and child has fully formed."
She hesitated before placing the vial into my trembling hand. "If this is truly what you want, drink it now. Once enough time passes... even this medicine will no longer work."
I stared at the liquid, my reflection wavering against the smooth glass.
Slowly, I closed my fingers around the vial.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, though I wasn't sure whether I was apologizing to the tiny life inside me... or to myself.
Taking a deep, unsteady breath, I uncorked the vial and drank every last drop.
- Writer
