Chapter 80

Evelyn

There was no time to scream.

The moment Trevor said he’d do the ritual, that he would take the power from our babies without even asking me… something inside me snapped in half. It wasn’t just anger. It wasn’t just fear. It was something deeper, something ancient, something that felt as though it didn’t entirely belong to me.

The twins surged.

Not with pain this time, but with force, like a wave rolling through my bones.

The room responded before I did.

The lights flickered, the air thinned, and the mirror exploded as if struck from inside. Shards scattered across the floor like a sheet of ice breaking under pressure. I felt the energy rushing through me in jagged currents, bright, hot, and alive. Like the twins were pushing against my ribs, testing how far they could stretch the limits of my body.

Trevor grabbed my shoulders to keep me from arching off the bed again.

“Evelyn! Evelyn, look at me!”

I couldn’t.

My vision rippled. My body wasn’t mine. My heartbeat wasn’t mine. Everything inside me was too full, too loud and too much.

Their voices weren’t words, but emotion pressed directly into my skull.

Fear. Anger. Light. Dark. Protect. No. No. No.

I gasped through clenched teeth and clawed at the sheets.

Not because it hurt, but because I didn’t know how to carry something so powerful all at once. It was like my mind had two extra occupants suddenly awake and screaming for space.

“Trevor,” I forced out, every syllable scraped raw. “Stop shouting.”

He froze. “Evelyn?”

“They’re responding to your voice. It’s… it’s shaking them.”

Rowan stepped closer, his steps slow, measured. “They’re fully awakened. Much earlier than expected.”

Understatement of the century.

The energy inside me didn’t settle. It throbbed, pulsing outward in waves, colliding with the air, coating the room in a strange hum I could feel against my skin.

Trevor steadied me with both hands, but his eyes were on Rowan.

“What do I do?” he demanded. “How do I stop this?”

“You don’t,” I whispered, cutting them both off.

They looked at me.

“You don’t stop anything,” I said, calmer now, not because I wasn’t scared, but because something inside me had shifted. I wasn’t drowning in the twins’ power anymore. I was adjusting to it, learning its rhythm. “They’re not attacking. They’re reacting.”

“To what?” Trevor asked, voice sharp with panic.

I lifted my gaze to his, and even though my whole body still trembled, my words were steady.

“To you.”

It hit him like an arrow to the chest. I felt his grip falter.

“You made a choice about them,” I said, breath unsteady but clear. “Without me. Without considering that maybe they… maybe I… don’t want to be stripped of anything.”

Rowan inhaled slowly. “Evelyn, this isn’t about want. It’s about control.”

“No,” I countered, the word cutting through the air. “It’s about fear. Your fear. His fear. The pack’s fear.”

I pressed a shaking hand to my belly.

“They aren’t here to destroy us. You all keep talking like they’re some kind of curse but… I can feel them. I can hear them.”

Trevor’s jaw clenched, pain flashing across his face. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“I know,” I whispered. “But you can’t protect me by hurting them.”

His mouth fell open, but before he could answer, another ripple of energy rolled through me. Not violent this time… more like a warning tremor.

Rowan stepped forward again. “She’s stabilizing,” he murmured, observing me with narrowed eyes. “Her body is adjusting. The twins are adjusting with her.”

Trevor looked between us, torn.

I reached up and cupped his cheek with my palm. His eyes softened instantly; fear dissolving into something helpless and raw.

“I’m not breaking,” I whispered. “You don’t have to choose for me. Or for them.”

His hand covered mine, warm and steady. “Evelyn… what if choosing wrong destroys all of you?”

“Then let me carry that risk,” I said, voice steadying. “They’re inside me. I know them more than anyone else ever will.”

The tension in his shoulders loosened. Just barely. But I saw it.

Before he could answer, the door swung open again.

Jason stepped inside, face pale.

“Trevor. You need to see this.”

Trevor frowned. “What now?”

Jason jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “You better come. Now.”

Trevor looked torn, he didn’t want to leave but even I could sense the urgency radiating off Jason like heat.

“Go,” I said softly.

Trevor hesitated. “I don’t want to leave you like this.”

“You’re not leaving me,” I said, squeezing his hand. “You’re doing your job. Go.”

He bent down and kissed my lips. For a second, everything felt normal, like we were just husband and wife, not two people standing on the edge of a prophecy.

Then he straightened and followed Jason out.

The moment the door closed, Rowan let out a slow breath.

“You’ve changed,” he said, studying me with something new in his eyes. Not judgment. Not fear.

Recognition.

“I didn’t change,” I murmured, sinking back against the pillows. “They woke up.”

“And you woke with them.”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to.

For the first time since this strange power inside me stirred, the room felt steady. Balanced. Like everything had fallen into a rhythm only I and the twins understood.

But that peace lasted barely thirty seconds.

Because in the hallway, I heard Jason’s voice low, urgent, shaken.

And then Trevor’s reply hard, clipped, furious.

I pushed myself upright, ignoring the ache in my spine.

The door swung open. Trevor stood there, eyes blazing, shoulders rigid, every muscle coiled in a way that made the air around him feel charged.

“What happened?” I asked, voice tightening.

He looked at me. Then at my stomach. Then back at me.

“Evelyn,” he said, grim and breathless. “Someone painted your name on the east gate.”

My heart skipped.

“With what?” I whispered.

His jaw clenched so hard the vein in his neck pulsed.

“Blood,” he said. “And a message.”

I swallowed. “What message?”

Trevor closed his eyes for half a second, then opened them again; full Alpha mode, full darkness, full fury.

“They said: The mother of power must fall before the moon turns twice.”

The room tilted.

Not from the twins.

Not from power.

From the realization that whoever wanted my children… had finally turned their attention to me.

For a moment, everything went silent.

Not the quiet of peace, the quiet that happens right before a cliff gives way under your feet. The kind where you know something has changed forever, and you haven’t even caught up to the reality of it yet.

Trevor didn’t move. Didn’t blink. He just stood there, the fury settling into him like a second skin. Jason hovered behind him, his expression stretched thin with the kind of tension that made my pulse start pounding again.

Blood.

My name.

A message.

It felt unreal. Not because I thought I was safe… nothing about my life had ever been safe but because whoever did it didn’t threaten the Alpha. Or the pack. Or the unborn heirs.

They threatened me.

“The mother of power,” Rowan echoed under his breath, stepping nearer. “They’re looking for you specifically.”

No fear touched his voice. Only calculation.

Trevor was the opposite. His chest rose and fell too fast, and when his gaze snapped to me, it wasn’t anger I saw there, it was a kind of terror he didn’t show anyone else.

“Evelyn, you’re not leaving this room,” he said. “Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not until I know exactly who wants you dead.”

I held his stare. “Trevor…”

“Don’t argue,” he warned, the command woven seamlessly into his voice, edged with desperation. “Not this time.”

“I’m not arguing,” I said softly. “I’m thinking.”

“That’s worse,” Jason muttered.

I ignored him.

I pressed my palm to my belly, feeling the twins shift beneath the surface. Their energy no longer spiked wildly—they were calmer now, pulsing in quiet, synchronized waves. Protective. Aware.

“They’re reacting to the message too,” I murmured.

Rowan nodded almost to himself. “They’re tied to you emotionally. Whoever threatens you will always stir them.”

Trevor dragged a hand through his hair. The movement was sharp, agitated, too fast.

“Who saw the gate first?” I asked.

“One of the dawn warriors,” Jason said. “He was doing a perimeter sweep after checking the eastern scent line. No trail. No intruder smell. Nothing. Whoever did it… didn’t come close enough to trigger the alarms.”

“So, someone who knows how to avoid your borders,” I concluded.

Trevor’s eyes hardened. “Zara.”

Rowan’s mouth pressed into a line. “Possibly. But the phrasing doesn’t sound like her. Zara enjoys direct violence. She wouldn’t waste time painting prophecies on walls.”

“You think it’s someone else?” I asked, my throat tightening.

“I think,” Rowan said, looking directly at me, “that you need to understand the gravity of your situation.”

I bristled. “I’m pregnant, not glass.”

“No,” he replied calmly. “You’re carrying the most powerful unborn wolves this pack has seen in a century. That makes you a symbol. And symbols don’t die quietly. They get stolen. Used. Broken.”

Trevor’s eyes snapped to him. “You’re not helping.”

“I’m stating facts,” Rowan countered.

I lifted a hand. “Stop.”

Everyone froze.

I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t use power. A subtle wave of steadiness rolled out from me, the twins responding to my need for clarity.

“Arguing won’t get us answers,” I said. “And fear won’t solve anything. Let’s think.”

Trevor sighed, tension rippling through his shoulders. “You shouldn’t have to think. You should be protected.”

“I can be both,” I said quietly. “Protected and present. Safe and aware. You don’t get to hide things from me and then demand I sit still while threats appear on the walls.”

“I’m not sitting still,” I continued. “I’m choosing to stay standing.”

Jason whistled under his breath. “Alpha, she’s right.”

Trevor shot him a glare that could’ve sparked lightning.

Jason took a strategic step back.

Rowan stepped forward instead. “The question is not whether Evelyn should be afraid. It’s who knew enough to identify her as the ‘mother of power.’ Only a handful of people outside this room even know the prophecy exists.”

“And Maya,” I added gently.

Trevor’s head whipped toward me. “Not her.”

“I’m not accusing her,” I said quickly. “But she was here. She apologized. She was… softer. I don’t think she would harm me. But someone could have followed her. Someone could’ve watched her come here.”

Trevor’s expression shifted. Slightly. But enough.

Jason nodded. “It’s possible. Her new mate might have enemies. Or she might have brought one with her without realizing it.”

“Or someone else could be moving pieces behind both Zara and Maya,” Rowan said quietly. “Someone who understands prophecy better than any of us.”

A chill slid down my spine.

“Who?” I asked.

Rowan folded his arms. “There was a pack once, decades ago—known for reading threads of fate. They were wiped out before you were born. But the knowledge? The rituals? They didn’t all die with them. Someone may have taken their teachings and weaponized them.”

Trevor exhaled, voice rough. “So, we’re dealing with a ghost with a grudge?”

“A scholar with a motive,” Rowan corrected. “Someone who knows prophecy holds value. And the twins you carry are the ultimate leverage.”

I sank back against the pillows, heart tightening.

“You need to be guarded,” Trevor said firmly. “At all times. We’ll rotate warriors outside the room. Jason will take the first watch. Rowan, help her stabilize her connection with the twins. And Evelyn…”

I lifted my head.

“You listen to me now,” he said, lowering his voice until it almost trembled. “You don’t go anywhere without me or a guard. You don’t walk outside. You don’t step onto the balcony alone. You don’t even open a window. Not until we know who wants you dead.”

I let the words settle.

They didn’t suffocate me the way I expected.

Maybe because I wasn’t the helpless girl everyone thought I’d be. Maybe because the twins were awake now, watching with ancient, quiet, newborn intensity. Maybe because this wasn’t just fear anymore.

This was war.

“I’m not fighting you,” I said softly. “I’ll stay inside. I’ll be careful.”

His shoulders eased fractionally.

“But Trevor,” I added, my voice turning sharp enough to cut, “don’t keep anything from me again. Not prophecy. Not visions. Not danger. Not ever.”

His silence was answer enough.

A silence full of guilt. Full of love and consequences.

Jason cleared his throat. “Alpha? You need to see the rest.”

Trevor tensed. “There’s more?”

Jason hesitated, and my stomach tightened. “They didn’t just write her name. They drew something too.”

“What?” Trevor demanded.

Jason swallowed. “A symbol.”

Rowan’s eyes snapped to him. “Describe it.”

Jason ran a hand along the back of his neck. “A crescent moon… split down the middle.”

I inhaled sharply.

Trevor muttered a curse under his breath.

Rowan’s face went cold. “That’s not just a threat. That’s a claim. They’re saying Evelyn is already as good as dead.”

A beat of silence.

I touched my belly gently.

“They’re wrong,” I whispered.

It wasn’t bravado.

It wasn’t denial. It was something sharper. Deeper. Stronger.

Something that didn’t come from me alone.

The twins pulsed and I knew, without seeing ahead, without understanding, without prophecy. That whoever was coming for me had no idea what they were truly walking into.

Not just a mother.

Not just a Luna.

But the first woman to carry power that breathed and thought before birth.

Trevor stepped forward, gripping the doorway like he was holding the whole house up.

“We’re going to find out who did this,” he said. “And when we do…”

His voice dropped into something lethal.

“…I’ll tear down whoever they hide behind. I swear it.”

I didn’t argue or tell him to calm down. I just met his gaze steadily, my voice low and unwavering.

“They’re not coming for me, Trevor.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

I held his eyes. “They’re coming for all three of us.”

Trevor stood there as if the wall behind him was the only thing keeping him from flying apart. His gaze kept flickering between the hallway, where danger waited, and me, where he always seemed to anchor himself.

When he looked at me now, it was with that same mixture of obsession and fear he never voiced… the one that said he’d raze entire kingdoms if it meant keeping me alive.

He came back to my side, sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand sliding into my hair like he needed physical proof I was still here.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured.

“I’m pregnant with ticking energy bombs,” I whispered back. “Trembling feels appropriate.”

His lips curved into a small, helpless smile before he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to mine. His breath mixed with mine, slow and warm, settling something inside me. He smelled like cedar and storm air and a promise I wasn’t ready to let go of.

“I’m never letting anything touch you,” he said softly. “Not prophecy, not rogues, not fate. Not even fear.”

My fingers curled into the back of his shirt. “I know.”

His thumb brushed the edge of my jaw, a touch meant for calming, but it ignited a shiver down my spine instead. There was always that spark between us. Even when we were angry. Even when the world was falling apart.

Especially then.

But the moment fractured when footsteps filled the hallway; quick, sharp, irritated.

Linda.

Of course.

Trevor stiffened, but he didn’t pull away. He stayed close, as if daring anyone, including her to challenge where he chose to be.

Linda swept into the room with the grace of someone who had spent her life being obeyed. Her eyes, cold and assessing, found me immediately. Then my belly. Then Trevor’s hand on my thigh.

She looked like she’d swallowed a lemon dipped in poison.

“So,” she said, her tone slicing through the air, “the entire pack is whispering about threats at the gate, and I find my son hiding in a bedroom.”

Trevor’s jaw flexed. “I’m not hiding.”

“No,” she said sweetly, “you’re clinging.”

Her gaze drifted to me again; not hateful, but sharp enough to peel skin if she wanted to.

“What happened?” she demanded.

Jason, sensing the volcanic tension, spoke first. “Someone marked the east gate with blood. Evelyn’s name. A threat. A prophecy symbol.”

Linda’s eyes widened just slightly before she masked it. “And you didn’t think to inform me?”

“You weren’t needed,” Trevor replied bluntly.

Linda’s nostrils flared. “I am always needed when it concerns my family.”

“She is your family,” Trevor shot back.

She ignored him completely, turning to Rowan. “Tell me exactly what danger she’s brought upon us.”

The audacity made the air tighten.

Trevor’s hand moved instantly, sliding from my thigh to my stomach, protective and possessive in one motion. A silent declaration.

“She hasn’t brought danger,” Trevor growled. “Danger found her.”

Linda’s lips thinned. “Danger always finds the weak.”

The room went still.

Even Rowan’s breath paused.

Trevor rose slowly, too slowly like a shadow stretching before a storm breaks.

“Say that again,” he said.

Her gaze didn’t waver. “She is fragile. Emotional. Untrained. She can barely carry the children as it is.”

My chest squeezed.

Linda’s voice cut deeper than any prophecy.

Trevor’s growl was low, vibrating from deep in his chest. “You don’t get to insult my wife. Not here. Not now. Not ever.”

Linda held her ground, but her expression faltered, a flicker of something like regret, or maybe fear of losing him completely.

Rowan stepped between them, voice level. “This is not the moment for division. The threat is real. And growing. We need unity, not ego.”

Linda exhaled sharply, pulling her composure back. “Fine. Tell me what we know.”

Jason filled her in. Every detail. Every symbol. Every missing scent trail.

By the time he finished, Linda’s expression had changed. It wasn’t softer. But it wasn’t hostile either.

It was calculating.

“This is planned,” she murmured. “Someone wants fear. They want instability. They want the pack divided.”

Her eyes slid toward me, and for once, her gaze wasn’t cold, it was warning.

“And they know exactly how to hit where it hurts.”

Trevor looked ready to rip through walls again.

I pushed myself upright, feeling the twins pulse beneath my ribs; quietly now, listening.

“We need to know who left the message,” I said. “And why.”

Trevor shook his head. “You shouldn’t even be thinking about that—”

“Trevor,” I said gently, “I’m not powerless. Not anymore.”

His eyes darkened with something that wasn’t fear, it was awe. Fearless, messy, heartbreaking awe for me. For the woman he loved far more than he ever intended to.

And I felt it again that warm, overwhelming pull from him. The obsession he tried to hide. The way he held himself like he’d fall apart if I slipped even an inch out of sight.

He leaned forward and kissed my forehead; slow, lingering, worshipful. His lips barely moved, but I felt the whisper against my skin.

“My Luna,” he murmured.

Linda looked away.

Rowan cleared his throat.

Jason pretended to study the wall.

Trevor didn’t care.

He only straightened after a long moment, but he kept one hand on me, unwilling to let go.

“We start the investigation tonight,” he said, voice hardening. “Check the borders. Interrogate anyone who was near the east gate. Strengthen the barriers.”

Jason nodded. “On it.”

“Rowan,” Trevor continued, “stay with Evelyn. She needs guidance stabilizing the twins’ energy.”

Rowan stepped forward. “Of course.”

“And Mother…” Trevor’s tone dipped. “…if you’re staying, you’re helping. Not criticizing.”

Linda opened her mouth then shut it.

Her gaze slid toward me once more. And this time, something new flickered in her expression.

Not acceptance.

Not love.

But recognition.

As if she finally understood that whatever I carried, whatever I was about to become, was far bigger than her opinion of me.

“I’ll stay,” she said quietly. “For tonight.”

Trevor nodded once.

Then he squeezed my hand hard like a silent vow before turning to leave with Jason to hunt the unknown threat circling our home.

And as soon as the door closed behind him, the twins kicked.

Not painfully.

Just once.

A quiet signal. A warning. A promise. And I understood it with absolute clarity.

Whoever marked the gate wasn’t done.

They were coming again.

And the next time… they wouldn’t use paint.