Chapter 81

Trevor

The night air was colder than it had been an hour ago. Colder than it should’ve been, even for this time of year. My wolf didn’t like it. He prowled under my skin, restless, ears pinned forward, teeth bared at shadows only he could hear.

Jason jogged beside me as we approached the eastern ridge, his breathing sharp and controlled. Every warrior posted tonight felt it too, the pressure hanging over the trees, the echo of whatever force dared leave a message for my wife.

My wife.

If I dwelled on the way Evelyn had looked when I left; brave, exhausted, stubborn, and so damn beautiful even in fear, I’d break. So I forced my focus forward, toward the danger.

The moonlight hit the metal gate as we stepped out of the clearing.

Jason raised a torch.

The blood was still there.

Her name.

Written like a promise meant to be fulfilled.

“Evelyn,” Jason murmured, shaking his head. “This is messed up on a level I don’t even have words for.”

I didn’t answer. My wolf was too loud. My heart was louder.

I stepped closer, crouching down to examine the smear marks beneath the letters, careful, deliberate strokes. Whoever drew it wasn’t panicked. This wasn’t a hurried threat.

It was a declaration.

And that made my hands curl into fists.

“She’s carrying my children,” I muttered under my breath. “My Luna. And someone wants her afraid.”

Jason glanced at me. “Alpha… she’s not just your Luna anymore. She’s the center of something bigger. You feel it. We all feel it.”

I did and I hated it. Because power attracted predators.

I rose slowly, eyes narrowing at the treeline. “Whoever did this didn’t cross into pack land.”

“Which shouldn’t be possible,” Jason agreed. “Unless they know how to move between scents.”

A low growl rumbled from my throat. “Only two beings can do that.”

Jason swallowed. “Zara.”

“And the one training her,” I said. “Whoever the prophecy keeper is.”

He exhaled sharply. “We need more intel. Fast.”

But before I could respond, a soft crunch echoed from behind the ridge.

We froze.

Jason lowered the torch.

My wolf surged to the surface, listening — muscles locked, breath stilled. I lifted my chin, eyes narrowing into the darkness between the trees.

“Step forward,” I called out. “Slowly.”

Another crunch.

Then a silhouette appeared.

Not a rogue. Not Zara. Not an elder.

Warrior Owen.

Except he wasn’t walking right.

Jason stiffened. “Why is he limping?”

The torchlight hit Owen’s face.

And my stomach dropped.

His pupils were blown wide, his skin pale, sweat beading across his forehead as if he’d run miles but he hadn’t. His leg was covered in mud, his uniform torn at the sleeve, and he kept swallowing like his throat was on fire.

“Owen?” I stepped forward. “What happened to you?”

He looked up at me, eyes glassy, like he was drunk on fear. His hands trembled as he tried to salute, failing miserably.

“Alpha… I didn’t mean to… I didn’t…” He shook violently, breath choking. “I saw something. At the border. Something I’ve never... never seen before.”

Jason moved closer. “What exactly did you see?”

Owen licked his cracked lips. “A woman.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight.

“What woman?” I demanded.

He shook his head rapidly. “Not human. Not wolf. Not anything I’ve ever learned about.”

His breath hitched. “Her eyes… Alpha… they were silver. No pupils. And she— she whispered your Luna’s name.”

My pulse roared.

Evelyn.

Jason stepped toward him, voice low. “Where did she go?”

Owen’s jaw trembled. “She vanished. Like smoke. But she said a message.”

My voice dropped to a lethal whisper. “Repeat it.”

Owen swallowed hard. “She said: ‘The mother has awakened, but she does not know the price.’”

My blood froze.

Jason muttered a curse under his breath. “That’s prophecy language. Ancient. Like pre-pack formation ancient.”

Owen nodded violently. “And then she said... I swear I heard it, she said, ‘Tell the Alpha he cannot hide her anymore.’”

A growl tore from my throat raw, primal, unrestrained.

Jason stepped back.

Owen stumbled, shaking. “Alpha, I swear I didn’t go looking for trouble. She found me. And she wasn’t alone.”

“What do you mean?” I demanded.

Owen pointed behind him with a shudder. “There was a child. A boy. Standing next to her. No scent. No footsteps. Eyes like hers.”

My heartbeat cracked like thunder.

“What did the child do?” Jason asked.

“He… smiled,” Owen whispered.

Jason and I exchanged a look. Nothing about this was normal. Nothing about this was rogue behavior.

This was prophecy.

This was fate bleeding into reality.

“Owen,” I said, stepping closer, “you’re not in trouble. But I need you to tell me every detail. Everything. From the moment you saw her to the moment she vanished.”

Owen nodded, tears forming; from fear, not weakness.

I placed a steady hand on his shoulder. “We’ll protect the pack. And we’ll protect Evelyn.”

His voice cracked. “Alpha… I think they’re coming for her soon.”

I already knew that.

But hearing it out loud hit differently.

Jason cleared his throat. “Alpha, we should take him to Rowan. Owen’s mind is rattled. If this woman used illusion magic, he might still be under some kind of influence.”

I nodded. “Take him. I’ll meet you in ten minutes.”

Jason hesitated. “And you? Where are you going?”

I stared at the trees, my wolf snarling in my chest.

“I’m calling a war meeting.”

Jason swore under his breath but didn’t argue.

When they left, I stayed alone in the clearing.

Wind moved through the branches, soft at first, then sharper.

Like a whisper. Like a warning.

My gaze drifted back to Evelyn’s name written in blood.

The mother of power.

The one they want.

The one I will never let them have.

I let the Alpha energy rise inside me, not just rage, not just instinct, but the kind of force that comes from loving someone so intensely you’d burn the world to keep them breathing.

“You won’t touch her,” I whispered to the night.

“And if you try…”

My wolf surged, claws raking the inside of my skin.

“…I’ll end every last one of you.”

The shadows didn’t answer.

But the cold wind that swept through the trees felt like a promise.

The packhouse lights were still burning when I returned too bright, too many shadows moving beneath them. Warriors patrolled the hallways in tighter formations, and the usually calm evening energy had twisted into something sharp, restless, coiled.

Everyone could feel it. But I only cared about seeing her.

I took the stairs two at a time. My wolf paced under my skin, claws dragging, urging me to get to Evelyn faster.

When I reached the second floor, Jason stepped out of Rowan’s study with a heavy exhale. “Owen’s stable. Rowan put a mental barrier on him, whatever illusion or energy he was exposed to won’t claw at him anymore.”

“Good,” I said. “Where’s Evelyn?”

His expression hesitated, and that alone set my blood on fire.

“Jason.”

He scratched the back of his neck. “She’s not in the room.”

My heart slammed once, so hard it felt like the floor tilted.

“What do you mean she’s not in the room?” My voice cracked like a whip.

“She’s still inside the packhouse,” he added quickly. “She’s safe. She only… needed air.”

“Air?” I echoed. “Air?!"

Jason stepped aside before my temper burned a hole through him. “She went to the east wing lounge. Rowan followed her.”

I didn’t wait.

I stormed down the hallway, fury and fear twisting together so tightly I could barely separate them. Every worst-case scenario flashed through my mind; someone slipping in, someone luring her out, someone marking her name in blood and drawing symbols meant to curse her.

She should’ve been resting. She should’ve been in our bed, in my arms, safe.

I found her in the east wing, standing beside the wide window that overlooked the forest.

My heart stuttered. She wasn’t alone.

My mother stood a few steps away from her, facing her, speaking low but intensely. Rowan leaned against the far wall, monitoring the energy around her, staying alert in case the twins shifted again.

And Evelyn… she looked tired. Not physically—emotionally.

Her hand rested on her belly like she was instinctively guarding the twins.

My mother was saying something I couldn’t hear.

I moved toward them, my footsteps echoing, making Rowan straighten and my mother  pause mid-sentence.

Evelyn turned.

The moment her eyes met mine, something inside me steadied and something else broke.

She was safe.

But she wasn’t okay.

“Trevor,” she whispered.

I crossed the room in three strides, cupping her face before she could say another word. My forehead pressed against hers, breathing her in vanilla, warmth, the faint spark of the twins humming beneath her skin.

“You shouldn’t be standing this long,” I murmured. “You shouldn’t be out of the room.”

“I’m not fragile,” she whispered back.

“You’re carrying half the future in your stomach,” I countered. “Yes, you are.”

Her lips curved, not in amusement but in resignation.

Behind us, my mother cleared her throat with the grace of someone who demanded attention but never asked politely for it.

“You don’t have to suffocate her, Trevor,” she said. “Let the girl breathe.”

I turned, slowly, deliberately.

The girl. Not your Luna. Not your son’s wife. Not the mother of your future grandchildren.

Just the girl.

Rowan shifted, ready for the verbal battle he knew was coming.

“Mother,” I said tightly. “Why are you here?”

She lifted her chin. “Because someone has to prepare your future Luna for what she’s carrying.”

I stiffened. “You don’t get to lecture her.”

Evelyn touched my arm gently, grounding me. “Trevor, it’s fine.”

“It’s not,” I said, refusing to look away from my mother. “And she knows it.”

She didn’t flinch. “Evelyn wanted answers. I gave them.”

I blinked. “Answers? About what?”

Her gaze flicked to Evelyn. Not hostile. Not warm. Just… assessing.

“The twins,” she said. “The energy inside them. The prophecy you didn’t want her to know.”

My stomach dropped.

Rowan pushed off the wall. “She asked. She deserved truth.”

And she did. But it didn’t stop the panic that clawed at my ribs.

I turned to Evelyn. “What did my mother tell you?”

My mother held my gaze; steady, brave, infuriatingly calm. “That the twins are growing faster than normal. That their energy is ancient and not entirely predictable. That something in me is reacting to it.”

“And?” I pushed.

She hesitated. “That I might not make it to full term.”

A roar ripped from me loud enough that the windowpane vibrated.

“No.” I grabbed her shoulders. “No. You will not say that. You will not think that. You will not—”

“Trevor.” She squeezed my hand. “I’m not dying.”

“Then why—”

“Because I’m changing,” she whispered. “Not breaking. Changing.”

That stopped me.

My mother sighed sharply. “I told her the truth because lying will not protect her. She needs to understand what she’s carrying.”

I turned my head toward her. “And what exactly do you think she’s carrying?”

Her eyes darkened. “Not just heirs. Not just wolves.”

My mother took a careful step closer.

“She’s carrying the rebirth of something this world hasn’t seen in centuries.”

The room stilled.

Even Rowan straightened, eyes narrowing.

My mother continued, her voice low. “A power that predates packs. One that once belonged only to women blessed by the Moon Goddess herself. And judging by the energy pulsing from her tonight…”

She looked at Evelyn’s belly with a mixture of awe and fear.

“…it’s waking.”

My wolf pressed forward.

“What does that mean for her?” I asked, my voice rough.

Her hesitated for the first time.

“For her?”

A pause.

“Everything.”

Another pause.

“For the world?”

Her gaze turned colder.

“War.”

Evelyn flinched.

Rowan muttered something under his breath— a curse, a prayer, maybe both.

I stepped closer to Evelyn, wrapping an arm around her waist as if I could shield her from prophecy with my body alone.

“No one touches her,” I said quietly. “No one harms her. No one takes her.”

My mother exhaled. “You’re her mate, Trevor, not her cage.”

“I’m both,” I snapped. “If that’s what it takes.”

Evelyn shook her head faintly. “You’ll suffocate yourself before you suffocate me.”

I pulled her tighter. “I would suffocate the world before I let it near you.”

Her breath hitched, not from fear. From the intensity. From the truth.

My mother looked away, jaw tightening as if she hated the fact that she understood this part of me more than she wanted to.

Then Rowan’s phone buzzed.

He answered, listened, then his expression shifted sharply.

“Trevor.”

I turned.

His voice was dead serious.

“Another symbol just appeared. This time inside the territory.”

My blood went cold.

“Where?” I demanded.

Rowan swallowed.

“In the nursery.”

Evelyn gasped. And every instinct in me shattered into claws and fire.