Chapter 81: The dream realm-Isabella Awakening

A cold whisper of wind brushed against Isabella’s skin as she opened her eyes.

Instead of her bedroom walls or the warm scent of Alpha Desmond lingering in the air, she found herself standing under a dome of pale blue light.

" The earth bow in your power, your glory reflect your beauty, I can see and touch your new making." Desmond spoke, as soon as the reaction has all taken place.

Isabella opened her eyes.

" Mrs. Evelyn is in the guest room." She said to Desmond.

Mist floated like silver ghosts across the ground, and the air smelled of ancient earth—older than her pack, older than anything she had known.

“Where… where am I?” she breathed, her voice trembling as it scattered through the silence.

She turned slowly, heart pounding, when the mist formed a feminine silhouette—tall, graceful… familiar.

The figure stepped forward, revealing the aged yet powerful face of Mrs.

Evelyn—once the matron of her mother’s pack, now a spirit of the ancestral realm.

“It is time,” Mrs. Evelyn said softly, her eyes glowing with lunar brilliance.

“You must return with me to my pack, the realm your bloodline belongs to.

The Ancient Wolf has approved it.”

“My… cave?” Isabella whispered, turning again.

The rocky walls around her shimmered with runic markings, symbols that pulsed as if they recognized her.

“I’ve never seen this place before.”

“You have,” another voice answered—this time coming from within her.

It was stronger than her usual wolf voice, carrying an authority that made Isabella’s hands tremble.

“You simply do not remember. This—” the wolf spirit said, “—is your true cave. Where your lineage began.”

Isabella froze. “What are you talking about?”

“You carry the heir of Alpha Desmond,” the wolf revealed calmly.

Her breath hitched. “What? In just one night? We weren’t even— we weren’t trying to—”

“It may surprise you,” her wolf continued, “but it is the truth.

Bloodlines such as yours and Desmond’s do not follow the laws of ordinary wolves.

The moon chooses the moment, not your intentions.”

Isabella felt her knees weaken. A child? Alpha Desmond’s child? Everything inside her began to shake.

“Let me go,” she whispered, overwhelmed. Her voice cracked as tears began building in her eyes. “Please… take me back.”

“You will leave,” her wolf assured her, “but not until you have been fortified. You must understand your role.

You are more than a woman who shared a night with an Alpha. You are a vessel of prophecy.”

Isabella froze.

She suddenly realized the truth—she might not return to her physical body anytime soon.

“Alpha Desmond will care for your body,” her wolf said gently. “Now come. There is something you must see.”

Mrs. Evelyn and the wolf led her deeper into the glowing cave.

Their footsteps made no sound, but Isabella’s echoed faintly, almost as if the realm recognized that she was still partly living.

They reached an open cavern illuminated by a single shaft of moonlight.

On the opposite side, a man was being dragged across the ground—Johnson.

He was bruised, bleeding, and surrounded by a pack of hostile rogue wolves.

Johnson had slipped away earlier that night, thinking he could disappear—thinking he could outsmart fate. But fate had found him.

“He chose this path,” Mrs. Evelyn said with a voice like stone.

“The rogues will not kill him yet. They only take what they need.”

When the rogues suddenly noticed Isabella, they stopped.

Their eyes widened. Their nostrils flared.

A ripple of fear and awe moved through them.

They bowed their heads.

“Your scent,” her wolf whispered from beside her, “is irresistible.

You are becoming what destiny demands.”

Isabella backed up, breath shaking. “I don’t want this. I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“But destiny rarely asks,” Mrs. Evelyn replied, touching her shoulder lightly. “Sit. It is time for the fortification.”

A stone chair formed from the ground behind Isabella.

She sat reluctantly, watching as her wolf spirit stepped forward—shifting slowly, bones clicking, fur fading into skin until a luminous human woman stood before her.

Back in the physical realm, the storm of panic had begun.

Isabella’s body lay on her bed—still, pale,

cold, her lashes resting on lifeless skin. Clara was the first to scream.

“What is happening?!” Clara cried, grabbing her wrist.

“She’s cold! Flora, she’s not breathing properly!”

Flora backed away, covering her mouth. “Oh moon… oh moon goddess… is she dead?”

Their screams echoed through the hallway until Alpha Desmond’s heavy footsteps thundered up the stairs.

He burst into the room, chest rising and falling, still carrying the scent of the night they shared.

“What are you talking about?” he growled. “Isabella cannot be— she was fine! She was with me just last night.”

He rushed to the bed, kneeling beside her and lifting her gently into his arms.

Her body was limp, almost weightless.

“Isabella,” he whispered fiercely, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

“Don’t do this. Not to me.”

He pressed his ear to her chest—there was a heartbeat, slow but steady.

“She’s still breathing,” he said sharply.

“Call the healer. Now!”

His guards ran out instantly.

Flora sobbed. “Alpha… she won’t wake up!”

“She will,” Desmond hissed. “She has to.”

Minutes later, the healer arrived—a tall elderly man with eyes that glimmered gold with supernatural insight.

He bowed briefly before moving to Isabella’s side.

He placed both hands on her temples. His body tensed. His breathing deepened.

The air in the room shifted—growing heavy, thick, buzzing with spiritual energy.

Desmond watched, barely able to breathe.

Finally, the healer exhaled sharply and opened his eyes.

“She is not dead,” he announced firmly. “Her spirit has left her body, but her connection remains.

She is in the spiritual realm. No one must panic.”

Clara let out a sob of relief. Flora collapsed to her knees.

Desmond stood slowly. “Why would her spirit leave her body?”

The healer turned, looking him straight in the eyes. His expression changed—more serious, more cautious.

“Alpha Desmond,” he said quietly, “may I speak with you alone?”

Desmond didn’t hesitate. “Everyone, out.”

The guards, Flora, and Clara left the room. The healer shut the door behind them.

For a moment, silence swallowed the room.

Then the healer spoke in a low voice.

“Your mate—Isabella—is carrying your child.”

Desmond froze.

He stared at the healer as if the words had not registered. His heart thudded once—twice—then seemed to stop.

“My… child?” he whispered.

“Yes,” the healer confirmed.

“A powerful heir. Her body is undergoing transformation and fortification to protect the life inside her.

Her spirit was summoned for guidance.

What is happening is a sign of an ancient bloodline awakening.”

Desmond staggered back and sat heavily on the edge of the bed. His hands trembled despite his attempts to hide it.

A child.

His child.

An heir to his bloodline.

He looked at Isabella, still asleep, her chest rising slowly.

Suddenly, every instinct in him surged—protectiveness, softness, pride.

A warmth filled him from within, spreading like wildfire.

“I’m going to be a father…” he breathed.

The healer nodded.

“And not just any father.

The child she carries is marked by the moon. It will change your pack forever.”

Desmond let out a shaky laugh—half disbelief, half joy.

“She didn’t even know.”

“No,” the healer agreed. “But she will. When she returns.”

Desmond leaned closer to Isabella, brushing his thumb along her cheek.

“I’ll be right here,” he whispered.

“All day. All night. Until you open your eyes.”

And he kept his word.

He sat beside her the entire day—never leaving, never resting.

He held her hand, sometimes caressing her hair, sometimes whispering her name.

His guards brought food he did not touch.

His Beta tried to discuss pack matters he did not hear.

Only Isabella mattered.

Only the soft, slow rise and fall of her breathing anchored him.

" I will always be by your side Isabella, you are my destiny and all I have gotten."

Desmond smiled as he looked into her face. She had slept off smiling.

Meanwhile, the ritual was ongoing.

Isabella felt a heavy body in her. Becoming more powerful and strong.

Then comes a crack within her stomach.

" You are more than a warrior, with you I shall gain victory."

The wolf inside her said. After which Isabella stood up.

The cloud spark, everywhere shakes on her rising she is now more than expected of her.