Chapter 91

Chapter 91
Lucien’s POV

The weight of the Moon Goddess’s words pressed down on me like a storm cloud threatening to burst. I had always believed that Aurora, the little girl born of Felicia’s womb, was destined to be the heir to my pack. But now, those beliefs had been shattered in a single revelation: Aurora was not the child foretold by the Moon Goddess. My heart raced as the words reverberated in my mind, each one sinking deeper into my soul.

Not your daughter.

That one sentence had pierced through my thoughts like a sharp blade. Aurora was my firstborn, and I had already begun to feel a deep, unbreakable bond with her. But according to the Moon Goddess, she was not the destined child. A sense of dread filled me. What does that mean for the future of my pack?

I sat by Felicia’s bed, watching her sleep soundly, her face serene and untroubled by the chaos that was swirling in my mind. Aurora slept beside her, her small form peaceful in the crib. The hospital room was quiet, save for the soft rustling of Felicia’s breath and the rhythmic sounds of the machines monitoring her vital signs. I couldn’t help but feel conflicted. The Moon Goddess had appeared to me in a dream, revealing the truth about Aurora’s fate. She was not the one who would bring about the great change that the prophecy spoke of.

But who is?

I couldn’t shake the question from my mind. The child who was destined to shape the future of our pack, to lead us into a new era, hadn’t been born yet. That thought gnawed at me, unsettling my already fractured thoughts. And yet, there was something about Aurora that made me believe she was more than just an ordinary child. She was mine in every way that mattered. No matter the prophecy, no matter what the Moon Goddess had said, I would protect her as my own. I had promised to raise her, and I would keep that promise, even if she wasn’t the destined one.

But there was also another truth I couldn’t ignore. If the prophecy spoke of a child born through my bloodline, then I had to ensure that child came to life. Felicia’s pregnancy had been an accident, one I had never planned for. But now, with this new revelation, I couldn’t afford to take any chances. I had to impregnate her again, quickly. Only then could I ensure that my bloodline would continue, that the heir of prophecy would be born through me. I would make sure Felicia bore the child that was meant for our pack, the one who would secure our future.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft golden glow over the room. Felicia lay in bed, her face soft and peaceful in sleep. I had never seen her look so vulnerable, so innocent, and yet, beneath her quiet exterior, I knew she was hiding something. She had been through so much during this pregnancy. The birth of Aurora had left its mark on her, both physically and emotionally. But there was something more that troubled me,something she wasn’t telling me.

I glanced at the tiny form in the crib. Aurora’s little hands were curled into fists, and her chest rose and fell with each gentle breath. She looked so fragile, so small, and yet there was a strength in her that I couldn’t quite understand. It was almost as if she knew something I didn’t. Something that neither of us could control.

I reached for Felicia’s hand, brushing my fingers lightly over her warm skin. She stirred, her eyes fluttering open. For a moment, she looked disoriented, as if she were trying to piece together the fragments of her dreams. When she finally focused on me, I could see the fatigue in her eyes, but there was also a flicker of something more,a kind of resolve, like she had already made up her mind about something.

“Lucien,” she whispered, her voice soft and hoarse. “Is everything alright?”

I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure it was. “Yes, Felicia. Everything is fine.”

She frowned slightly, her gaze flickering to Aurora. “Is she… is she really mine?” The uncertainty in her voice surprised me. I had never known her to question her role as a mother.

I swallowed, my mind racing. The answer I gave her would shape the way she saw me, the way she saw our family. But the truth was complicated. Aurora wasn’t the child foretold, but she was still my daughter. I couldn’t deny that. She was a part of me, and no matter the prophecy, I would never turn my back on her.

“She’s yours, Felicia,” I said firmly, squeezing her hand. “She’s ours.”

Her eyes softened, but a flicker of doubt lingered. I could see it in the way she looked at Aurora. I knew she wasn’t entirely convinced. The weight of the truth was heavy, and it would take time for her to fully accept it.

We were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. The doctor stepped in, his expression professional but kind. “Alpha Lucien,” he said, bowing his head in greeting. “The mother and child are in stable condition. We believe it’s time to discharge them.”

I nodded, grateful for the news. Felicia had healed well, and Aurora was strong. It was time for them to leave the hospital and return to the pack. But as the doctor spoke, my mind wandered back to the prophecy. The child who would change everything…

I couldn’t help but wonder if this was all part of something larger. Had the Moon Goddess sent me this warning because there was something I was missing?

“Thank you, doctor,” I said, forcing a smile, though my mind was elsewhere. “Please make the arrangements. We’ll be leaving soon.”

The doctor gave a small bow and turned to leave, but not before pausing at the door. “Alpha, we’ve made sure the necessary preparations are in place. Felicia will be comfortable, and we’ve arranged for her to rest at the pack house.”

“Thank you,” I said again, my voice sounding distant even to my own ears.

Once the doctor was gone, I turned back to Felicia, who was looking at me expectantly. She hadn’t said anything more about her doubts, but I could see the tension in her posture. It was as if she were waiting for something to change, waiting for me to say something that would make everything feel right again.

But what could I say? The prophecy had been clear. Aurora is not the destined child. And yet, the child who would be born from me had not yet come. The thought made my stomach tighten. I couldn’t afford to wait any longer.

“Felicia,” I said, my voice low, “I will do whatever it takes to make sure our pack survives. I promise you that.”

Her eyes met mine, and for a brief moment, I saw a flicker of understanding. The weight of what I had said, of what I had promised, seemed to settle between us.