Chapter 304: The Ruins and the Future

Ayla

The hotel suite felt like a cage with clean sheets.  I’d tried to make it mine, dragging the blankets off the bed, piling them in a corner, stacking pillows around, but it wasn’t the same.  No matter how I clawed at it, this place would never be home.

My wolf pressed against my skin, pacing. Nest. Den. Safe. Every instinct ran into the same wall: I had no place to build one. The estate was nowhere near livable.

My belly tightened and I froze, hands splaying over the swell. Just the pups shifting. Not the surge. I’d learned the difference now. The sharp, pressurized warning meant power was coming, versus the flutter of tiny feet and fists inside me. Still, it made my chest lock up. My wolf whined, wanting quiet, wanting safe, wanting home.

I was halfway through dragging a chair across the room when the knock came.

Sharp, light. Not Thane.

My pulse spiked. I froze, nails digging into the chair arm.

The door cracked open, cautiously, and Amani peeked inside.

“Don’t freak out,” she said quickly, holding up a paper bag like a shield. “I brought muffins.”

I stared at her, stiff as stone. “You shouldn’t be here.”

She stepped in, soft-footed but steady. “Thane called me.”

My stomach clenched. “He what?”

She closed the door behind her and set the bag on the counter. “He thought you might want company.”

“I could hurt you,” I blurted. The words came sharp, panicked. My wolf pressed harder, claws raking at my insides. “You don’t understand....”

Amani turned, calm as still water. “Thane’s still alive, isn’t he?”

Her gaze didn’t waver. “He’s been right beside you through it. You blasted a house to rubble, and he lived through the night.”

“I can feel it building before it happens now. Yesterday it was so sharp I thought I’d split open. Today it’s quiet. But that doesn’t mean it won’t come back.”

Amani stepped closer. She had her own wolf, her own instincts, and she trusted them. “So you can tell now. That’s good. It means you’ll know when to shield. When to warn people.”

Her faith was infuriating. And comforting. Both.

I rubbed my arms, restless, staring at the shredded pile of pillows in the corner. “I don’t want to live like a bomb waiting to go off.”

“Then don’t,” she said simply.

I barked a laugh. “It’s not that easy.”

She arched a brow. “Sure it is. You don’t have to sit here and rot.”

Silence stretched. My wolf growled low, torn between snapping and curling up at her feet.

Amani sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing her jeans, eyes flicking over the wreck I’d made of the room. She didn’t judge. Didn’t laugh. She just nodded, like it made sense.

Then she said, careful but clear, “Damon told me about… a sighting.”

Ice slid into my gut. “Eric?”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Maybe. Tyler caught grainy footage near Stevens’ land. Couldn’t be sure, but… it looked wrong. Disfigured. Off.”

My hands curled protectively over my stomach before I realized it. My pups kicked, “If it was him....”

Amani cut me off gently. “Then it means he’s not gone. But we don’t know for sure.”

The words cracked through me like a whip. I met her eyes. “What if we go out? Just to look. The estate, maybe. Or into town. Brainstorm ideas for the nursery. Research. Something that makes this real in a good way instead of a scary one.”

I blinked at her, thrown. “You want a girl’s day?”

“Why not?” Her smile flickered, small but real. “I’ve got a new car, a full tank, and snacks. We could drive out, snoop around, maybe pick out baby stuff. Two of everything, right? Twins. You might actually get to choose something instead of just waiting.”

My lips twitched, half laugh, half sob. “You think Thane would approve?”

“Nope.”

That earned a real laugh, sharp and sudden. My wolf rumbled in my chest, uneasy, but the idea sparked something in me that had been dead for weeks: possibility.

Maybe she was right.

Amani jingled keys at me like a baited hook. “Come on. At least look at my car. If you hate it, I’ll drive you right back up here and let you sulk in your pillow fort.”

My wolf growled low, uncertain, but my hands itched. I wanted air. I wanted space. And, maybe, I wanted to pretend for a few hours that I wasn’t dangerous.

“Fine,” I muttered, tugging on a hoodie. “Show me your toy.”

Her grin lit the room.

The  air was crisp with mountain bite. Amani’s “new car” wasn’t the sensible sedan I expected, it was a cherry-red SUV, gleaming and obnoxiously clean.

“You bought this?” I asked, circling it.

“Technically Damon bought it,” she corrected. “But I picked the color.”

I snorted. “That explains it.”

“Exactly,” she said proudly, unlocking it with a chirp. “Now get in before I remember how you mocked me and leave you here.”

The leather smelled new, the seats warm. My wolf stretched against my skin, pleased to be moving, even if unease still twisted in my gut.

“Where to?” Amani asked, hands on the wheel.

“The estate,” I said before I could talk myself out of it. “I want to see it.”

Her eyes flicked to me, searching, then she nodded. “Estate it is.”

The drive was quiet at first. Pines blurred past the windows, the mountain road curling sharp. My hands stayed pressed to my stomach, bracing against every bump.

“You know,” Amani said eventually, “for someone who terrifies most of the shifter world, you look like you’re riding shotgun while I’m driving without a license.”

I glared. She grinned.

“I’m serious,” she added. “You don’t have to look so guilty. It’s not like you blew up the house on purpose.”

My laugh came brittle. “Doesn’t matter. Intent doesn’t fix walls.”

“Maybe not, but thankfully you have another house, so who cares.”

I let a small laugh, shaking my head. She’s not wrong.

The estate loomed ahead, jagged in the sunlight.

Amani parked and cut the engine. “Girl..............this is a castle.”

“I know. I thought I lived in one when I was young, but this....much larger.”

We climbed out, boots crunching on gravel. My wolf prowled at the edges of my skin, uneasy but curious.

“It’s worse than I thought,” I admitted, brushing my hand along a splintered beam.

“Then start imagining it better,” Amani said. “Picture walls fixed, rooms warm, cribs lined up against the nursery wall.”

I smiled faintly. “Two of everything.”

“Exactly.”

We wandered through rooms. We squinted at walls and bounced ideas off each other. “That could be the pups’ room. Big windows.” Then my mind goes from big windows to the enemy crashing through them into my pup’s room.

I shudder.

Amani nodded. “And this could be your nesting room. I say you hang something ridiculous, like a chandelier made out of feathers.”

I snorted. “That’s your taste, not mine.”

“Please. You’re an omega. Don’t lie.” I sigh, but she’s right. Despite Aramana being a total badass, we do like soft fabrics, and we are particular about texture.

Her teasing loosened something tight in my chest. For a little while, we wandered and dreamed, imagining curtains, paint, furniture.

By the time we reached town, my wolf was calmer.

Amani dragged me into the first baby store she spotted. It was a pastel explosion, the shelves lined with plush animals and glittery mobiles.

“I don’t know what I am doing.” I muttered.

“Neither do I,” she admitted. “But your instincts do.”

That stopped me.

I walked slowly through aisles of cribs, bassinets, and car seats. My fingers trailed over polished wood, soft blankets, tiny shoes. Everything came in pairs. Two blankets. Two cribs. Two of everything.

For the first time, the future didn’t feel abstract. It felt solid.

I found myself pointing. “This one. Strong frame, no flimsy parts.”

Amani’s grin widened. “See? That’s a choice.”

I chose a rocking chair next, dark wood, wide enough for me and two pups. My wolf huffed approval.

Amani clapped her hands. “Progress! Do I get credit for this?”

“I suppose,” I admitted, lips twitching.

On the drive back, I let my head fall against the window. For the first time in weeks, my stomach didn’t feel like a ticking bomb.

“It felt good,” I murmured. “Choosing.”

Amani glanced at me, smile soft. “Told you.”

My throat tightened. “I still don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Then don’t,” she said simply. “Shield when it comes. Trust yourself.”

The words settled deep. My wolf stretched, tired but calmer.

Maybe I couldn’t stop the surges. But today, I’d chosen something. Today, I’d made space for the future.

And it felt like hope.