The Human Luna

Chapter Fourteen -Behind Locked Doors

I followed Kye through his pack house, my eyes drifting over the paintings lining the walls as we climbed the stairs. I smiled politely whenever a warrior or servant nodded my way — as a visiting Alpha, I had to. By the time we reached the third floor, however, I froze.

There was a keypad lock on the door. That hadn’t been here when I visited last summer.

Inside, three warriors stood guard just beyond the threshold. Their stance was rigid, alert, their eyes flicking between us and the hall. Kye had never run his house with this kind of security before. Whatever was happening, it was big.

“Kye,” I muttered under my breath, “why are there guards stationed up here?”

His gaze swept over the warriors, his jaw tight. “Not here. We’ll speak in my room.”

The sharpness in his tone silenced me. Kye wasn’t just being cautious — he was afraid. Instead of turning into his office, he led me all the way to the end of the hall. The door swung open into what I assumed was his and Alice’s bedroom.

The brightness caught me first. Floor-to-ceiling windows spilled light across the room, softened by plants that turned the chamber into a greenhouse of green. Against the white walls and black four-poster bed, the place felt… alive.

“Thomas, hii!” Alice’s voice rang out before I could take it all in. She practically launched herself into my arms, hugging me tightly.

I couldn’t help but grin. “Alice, it’s so good to see you. How are you feeling?”

Before she could answer, a low growl rumbled from Kye. Possessive. Protective. Understandable. Wolves couldn’t help it.

Alice gave him a glance, then turned back to me with a nervous smile. “I’m… okay. Considering.”

The hesitation in her voice told me everything: whatever this was, it was serious.

“Thomas,” Kye said firmly, moving to a crib by the windows. “Meet my son — Theodore. Or Teddy, as Alice insists on calling him.”

Pride lit his face, but beneath it, I saw something else. Worry.

I stepped closer, leaning over the crib. The baby was beautiful — chubby cheeks, golden-brown eyes that seemed to glow where the sunlight struck them. I reached out, brushing my fingers toward his cheek.

And then I stumbled back.

Teddy’s eyes darkened to black. His soft infant arms elongated, bones reshaping with a speed and ease that defied everything I knew. Paws replaced hands. Fur spilled across his skin, ebony with streaks of gold where the light touched. In seconds, the infant was gone — replaced by a wolf cub staring up at me from the crib.

“Kye…” My throat was dry. “What… how?”

Alice and Kye exchanged a look, then turned their eyes on me.

“We don’t know,” Kye admitted. “He was born like this, Thomas. He shifted within minutes of birth, back and forth between forms as if it were nothing. No pain. No struggle. Just… instinct.”

Alice’s eyes glistened. “We’ve searched for answers quietly, but there’s nothing. No records, no legends. As far as we know, he’s the first of his kind.”

I stared at the cub, awestruck. A wolf born shifting at will. No hours of agony, no shattered bones. I couldn’t help but envy him.

“That’s not all,” Alice whispered, tugging me gently to another crib. “Thomas… meet Annabelle.”

The infant stared back at me with the most vivid violet eyes I’d ever seen. They burned brighter than even Doctor Bane’s.

Before I could speak, Alice did something that made my heart jolt — she picked up a knife and dragged the blade across her palm. Blood welled instantly.

“Alice, what are you—”

“Watch.”

She pressed her bleeding hand into Annabelle’s tiny grip. The infant’s eyes flared with light, and in seconds the cut sealed itself, leaving flawless skin where the wound had been.

I gasped. “That’s— that’s impossible. A healer? But healers don’t gain their gifts until they come of age, when they get their wolves.”

Kye shook his head grimly. “And yet, here she is.”

I barely found words. Two infants — one born shifting, the other already wielding impossible magic. My gaze snapped to the third crib.

“What about her?” Inside lay a smaller child with pale blue eyes so light they nearly blended into the whites. She blinked up at me and gave what might have been a smile.

“As far as we can tell,” Kye said quietly, “Adira is… ordinary.”

Ordinary. I wasn’t sure if that was a relief or a disappointment.

I exhaled, trying to collect myself. “Kye, Alice… this is incredible. Terrifying, yes, but incredible.”

Alice’s hands twisted together, her usual confidence replaced by fear. “And dangerous. If anyone outside this room knew what they were, we’d paint a target on their backs. On the whole pack.”

I turned to Kye, my brows knitting. “Why tell me?”

“Because,” he said firmly, “you are the only Alpha I trust. You put the greater good above yourself, Thomas. That’s why we need you.”

Alice stepped closer, her voice trembling. “If anything happens to us… we want you and Shannon to raise them.”

The weight of her words sank into me like stone. I gasped. “You— you want us to—”

Kye’s eyes burned with conviction. “Yes. Our witch, Aisling, had a vision. She saw our deaths. She saw you and Shannon stepping into their lives.”

“No.” My fists clenched. “No, there has to be a way to stop it. The future can change—”

“Thomas.” Alice’s voice cracked as tears brimmed in her eyes. “We’ve tried. Every option, every precaution. We don’t want to die. We don’t want our babies to grow up without us. But this isn’t about us anymore. It’s about them.”

My anger crumbled. The raw truth in her voice cut deeper than any blade.

Kye called Aisling, and a dark mist coalesced into the form of a young witch — striking, ethereal, her presence commanding the room. She explained the ritual: an attachment spell. Our blood mingled, binding the children to Kye and Alice… and, upon their deaths, binding them to me and Shannon.

It was done swiftly, blood dripping into the cauldron, infants crying at their tiny cuts until Annabelle’s glowing eyes soothed their wounds without touch. The sight left me breathless.

The potion was vile — metallic, bitter, foul — but we downed it, adults and infants alike. Aisling handed me the final vial, meant for Shannon.

“She has forty-eight hours,” the witch warned. “Once she drinks, the bond will ignite. You’ll feel it. Like a mate bond — unbreakable.”

I nodded, clutching the vial as though it were sacred.

When I finally left, night had fallen. Kye embraced me at the door. “No one else can know, Thomas. Only Shannon. Only Stefan, if you must.”

“I swear it,” I promised.

The two-hour drive back to my own pack was a blur, my mind reeling with what I had seen. Wolves born shifting. An infant healer. A prophecy of death. And the knowledge that Shannon and I were now bound to something far greater than ourselves.

I tried to see her that night, but Nurse Hilary denied me entry. I’ll try again tomorrow.

We have a lot to discuss.