Chapter 102: Cold Hush
A cold hush settled over the room.
Damian hadn’t moved. He just couldn’t, for the first time in his life he was speechless, motionless. His arms were locked around Isla as though anchoring her in place, steadying them both. His silver eyes, usually so steady, were wild with grief and disbelief. He kept murmuring her name, voice cracking, each breath shorter than the last.
“Don’t do this,” he whispered. “Don’t leave me.”
The air in the room shifted just before Lucia followed closely by Rohen burst through the door.
“She’s not dying,” Lucia said, her voice trembling with urgency. “She’s being taken.”
Damian’s head snapped up. “What?”
Lucia crossed the room in two strides, her hands hovering above Isla’s body. “Something’s pulling her from the inside, something tied to the bloodline, to the child. I saw it. There was… a presence. Watching.”
Rohen moved behind her, his own instincts sharp. “We need to break the connection. Whatever it is, it’s not of this world.”
Damian stood, lifting Isla carefully into his arms and placing her on the bed. His face was stone, but his hands trembled.
“I won’t lose her,” he said through clenched teeth. “Tell me what to do.”
Lucia closed her eyes, searching. “The healer can stabilize her body, but her spirit is slipping into something else, somewhere else.”
“Then bring her back,” Damian snapped. “You’re connected to this somehow. You saw it. Find her.”
Lucia’s lips parted, stunned at the command, but more stunned by the pleading underneath it. Damian was unraveling. Not outwardly, but inside. He wasn’t the Alpha now. He was a mate on the edge of losing everything.
She nodded. “We need symbols of grounding, something that ties her to this place. This moment. Rohen, help me with salt, candles, anything that can hold the energy. Damian…” she turned back to him, “…you stay with her. Talk to her. Anchor her. If she’s floating, you’re the only thing strong enough to pull her back.”
He was already kneeling by the bed, both hands cupping Isla’s face. “You hear that, love?” he murmured, forehead resting against hers. “You’re not leaving me. You’re not leaving our child. You come back to me. You fight.”
Lucia and Rohen moved swiftly around the room, forming a crude circle of protection, drawing symbols from ancient lore on the floor with salt and powdered charcoal. The candles flickered as if disturbed by a breeze that didn’t exist.
A strange wind rustled through the chamber, though the windows were sealed. The air thickened.
Then, Isla's body arched with a sudden jerk, and a deep gasp tore from her lips. Damian surged forward, catching her as her eyes flew open. But they weren’t her usual gold and indigo.
They were pure gold and they were glowing like the sun.
Lucia froze. Rohen stepped forward.
“Damian,” she whispered, “that’s not just her.”
He didn’t let go. “It’s still Isla,” he growled. “She’s still here.”
Isla’s lips moved, soundless. Then came a name.
“Vincent.”
Everything in the room shattered.
When Isla woke, the air was thick with the scent of herbs and candle smoke. Soft linens pressed against her skin, but the warmth surrounding her was unmistakable. Damian.
She blinked up at him, his face tight with exhaustion. His hand was wrapped around hers, his thumb moving in slow, desperate circles against her skin.
“You scared me so bad, baby,” he admitted hoarsely.
She swallowed, her throat dry. “I’m fine…”
“You collapsed,” he cut in, his tone sharp. “That’s not fine, and started chanting and calling his name.”
The healer cleared her throat from the corner of the room. “She’ll recover. But this pregnancy… it’s not an ordinary one.”
Damian’s head snapped up. “What does that mean?”
The healer hesitated. “Her body is changing in ways I’ve never seen before. It’s not just the strain of the pregnancy, it’s something more. Something in her blood and the way she is channeling energy.”
Isla’s fingers curled in Damian’s grasp.
The healer met her gaze. “You clearly know you are pregnant.”
Isla nodded slowly.
“But did you know that your child is unlike any wolf that has ever been born?”
A heavy silence filled the air.
Damian’s grip on her hand tightened. “Explain.”
The healer inhaled deeply. “Your child’s heartbeat is… different. There’s something ancient in the baby’s blood, something tied to Isla’s own lineage and it’s not just affecting the baby, it’s affecting her. As if it were connected to the ancient ways of energy and magic”
Isla’s breath came in shallow gasps. The golden-eyed wolves. The visions. The pull Vincent had on her.It was all connected.
“Will she survive it?” Damian asked, his voice a dangerous whisper.
The healer hesitated and that pause sent ice down Isla’s spine.
Brienne’s head throbbed as she came to, the scent of damp stone and burning wood filling her lungs. She moved to sit up, but heavy chains clamped down on her wrists, pulling her back.
A low chuckle echoed in the darkness.
“Awake at last.”
Vincent.
Brienne lifted her chin, forcing herself to meet his gaze. His golden eyes gleamed with something unreadable.
“What do you want?” she rasped.
He crouched in front of her, tilting his head. “You already know, Brienne.”
She clenched her jaw. “I don’t.”
Vincent smirked. “Oh, but you do. You feel it, don’t you? The pull between us.”
Her stomach twisted.
No.
No, this wasn’t real. This wasn’t hers.
It was his.
Something from another life.
“I’m not yours,” she ground out.
Vincent merely smiled, tapping a finger against his temple. “Memories don’t lie.”
Brienne’s blood ran cold because deep down, in the places she never dared explore, she feared he was right.