Rejected In Nairobi, Claimed With The Alpha's Baby.

CHAPTER 9: THE FIRST NIGHTMARE

The first two weeks in Karen passed like a dream Aisha was scared to wake up from.

Every morning, she woke up in a soft bed, not on a thin mattress on the floor. There was hot water in the shower, not a cold bucket. Wanjiru brought fresh mandazi and chai to the cottage door at 7 AM with a smile. Zara had a whole garden to run in, with real swings and a small white rabbit Margaret bought for her called Snowy.

Zara Boutique Karen Branch was doing better than Aisha ever imagined. Karen mamas came every day. One mama ordered 10 matching dresses for her chama. Another mama from Gigiri ordered a wedding kitenge for her daughter. In 14 days, Aisha had made 1.2 million shillings. More money than she made in one year in Mombasa.

Aisha sent half of it to Mrs. Otieno to keep the Mombasa branch running and paid school fees for her younger brother back in Kayole. For the first time in her life, she was not scared about rent.

Mark kept his promise. He didn't force anything. He came to the cottage every night at 8 PM to read Zara a story and hum the wolf lullaby. He never stayed after Zara slept, unless Aisha invited him to sit on the bench outside. Sometimes she did. Sometimes she didn't. He respected both.

But on the night of Day 15, the nightmare came.

It was raining again, a heavy Nairobi rain that drummed on the cottage roof. Aisha and Zara had fallen asleep early, cuddled together in Aisha's big bed because Zara was scared of thunder. Zara's silver bracelet glowed faintly on her wrist, protecting her.

At exactly 2:14 AM, Zara screamed.

It was not a normal child's nightmare scream. It was a howl. A high, small, broken wolf howl that made the windows of the cottage shake.

Aisha woke up instantly. "Zara! Baby! What's wrong?"

Zara was sitting up in bed, her eyes wide open, glowing bright silver, brighter than Aisha had ever seen. So bright that the whole bedroom was lit silver. Her small body was shaking, her hands clenched into claws, her teeth showing tiny fangs that were not there before.

She was not seeing the bedroom. She was seeing something else.

"Gold eyes! Gold eyes everywhere! They want to take me! Mommy, they want to take me to the dark forest!" Zara screamed, crying.

Aisha grabbed her, but Zara was burning hot again, much hotter than last time.

"Mark! MARGARET! HELP!" Aisha shouted.

Within 10 seconds, Mark burst into the cottage, barefoot, wearing only sweatpants, his own silver eyes blazing bright, glowing like two moons. He had felt it through the pack link — Zara's fear, strong and sharp, cutting through his sleep.

Margaret came right behind him with Joseph, who was now walking with a stick, not a wheelchair. Joseph's old silver eyes were glowing too.

"What is it? What does she see?" Joseph asked, his voice urgent.

Mark knelt and put his hands on Zara's shoulders. "Zara, princess, look at Daddy. Look at me. Breathe. What do you see?"

Zara's glowing eyes locked onto Mark's glowing eyes. "Gold eyes, Daddy! Many! In Runda! Uncle with gold eyes says Mommy is weak human and I belong to him! He says he will come with cars!"

Mark's face turned white. Peter Kenyatta.

Joseph growled low, an old wolf growl that made Aisha's skin stand up.

"She is dream-walking," Joseph said. "Pure females can dream-walk into other packs' territory. She is seeing Runda compound right now. Peter is talking about her. She is hearing his thoughts."

Aisha held Zara tighter. "Make it stop! Please make it stop! She is only three!"

Mark started humming the lullaby, but this time it didn't work. Zara's shaking got worse. Her small nails were growing longer, scratching Aisha's arm.

"Her wolf wants to shift to protect herself," Joseph said. "At three! This is too early. If she shifts now, her human bones will break. She is too small."

"What do we do?" Mark shouted, panic in his voice for the first time.

Joseph looked at Aisha. "Aisha, you are her mother. Human mother, but her anchor. Only a mother's touch can pull a dream-walker back. You need to hold her and tell her where home is. Not Karen. Not Mombasa. Tell her where home is in your heart."

Aisha didn't understand, but she pulled Zara onto her chest, skin to skin, and started singing the lullaby her own mother used to sing in Kayole, in Kikamba, the one she sang when Zara was a newborn in the clinic and she had no money for medicine.

_Kavaluku kangu, kalala... my small baby, sleep..._

Her voice was shaking, crying, but she sang.

Zara's glowing eyes flickered. Her shaking slowed. Her burning skin cooled slightly.

"Mommy..." Zara whispered, her voice small again.

"Yes, baby, Mommy is here. Home is here, with Mommy. Not Runda. Not dark forest. Home is here, with your pink bed and Snowy the rabbit and your crayons."

Zara's silver eyes dimmed from blazing bright to soft glow. Her claws shrank back to small nails. Her fangs disappeared.

She collapsed onto Aisha's chest, exhausted, sleeping.

The cottage was silent except for rain and heavy breathing.

Mark was on his knees, his silver eyes still glowing, tears running down his face. "She dream-walked to Runda. Peter was planning to take her tomorrow night. She heard him."

Joseph sat down heavily on the chair, his old body shaking. "Peter Kenyatta will not stop. Gold has always hunted silver. He wants to raise her as Runda heir, marry her to his son James when she is 16. It's old law, but he will use it."

Aisha looked up, her leso wet with Zara's sweat and her own tears, her face hard like stone.

"Let him try to come," she said, her voice low and dangerous, not like a scared waitress anymore, but like a mother wolf. "Let him bring his cars and his gold eyes. I will stand at that gate with a kitchen knife if I have to. No one will take my daughter."

Mark looked at Aisha and saw something he never saw before — silver light, very faint, flickering in her brown eyes.

Joseph saw it too and gasped.

"Margaret, do you see?" Joseph whispered.

Margaret nodded, shocked.

"What?" Mark asked.

Joseph touched Aisha's forehead gently. "Three years ago, you were human. 100% human. But when you carried a pure Alpha child, some of her blood entered your blood. It happens only with pure females. You are no longer fully human, Aisha Wanjiku. You are half-turned. That is why Zara's wolf trusts you enough to come back. That is why you could pull her from dream-walk. You have a little bit of silver in you now."

Aisha touched her own eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You will start having dreams too," Joseph said softly. "Dreams of the forest. You will start hearing Zara's thoughts when she is scared. You are becoming pack, not by bite, but by birth."

Mark stared at Aisha, his silver eyes wide. He reached out and gently touched her cheek. "Aisha..."

For the first time, when he touched her, he didn't just feel her soft skin. He felt a faint, warm thread — a new pack link, thin and silver, connecting Aisha to him and Zara.

Aisha felt it too — a warm buzz under her skin.

That night, after Zara was sleeping peacefully again, her bracelet glowing, Joseph put two extra guards at the Karen gate — not human guards, but two big black wolves that came from the forest behind the compound and sat by the gate, their eyes glowing silver, invisible to human eyes but clear to any gold-eyed visitor.

Mark didn't go back to the main mansion. He sat on the floor of the cottage, his back against Zara's pink bed, watching both his girls sleep — Aisha in the chair, Zara in the bed, both breathing softly.

He pulled out his phone and typed a message to Peter Kenyatta:

_If you come to Karen tomorrow night, come ready to fight an Alpha who has something to lose. - M_

Peter read it in Runda and threw his phone against the wall, his gold eyes blazing.

In the cottage, Zara murmured in her sleep, smiling now, dreaming not of gold eyes, but of a yellow dress boutique and a garden with a rabbit.

Her first real nightmare had come and gone. But it would not be the last.

And outside, the two black wolves at the gate howled once, low and warning, telling every pack in Nairobi: the silver heir is protected.