Chapter 83

Chapter 83
Evelyn 

The walk to the northern border felt longer than any journey I had ever taken, not because of the distance, but because every step carried weight. The kind that pressed into my ribs and tightened around my lungs.

Trevor held my hand the entire time. Not gently. Not carefully.

Desperately.

His fingers were locked around mine like he thought I might disappear if he blinked too long.

Even with Rowan and Jason leading ahead, with five warriors flanking us, with Linda gliding behind like a ghost… Trevor behaved like the entire forest was an enemy.

And maybe it was.

My other hand rested over my belly, feeling the strange rhythm inside me again; slow pulses, like the twins were listening. Watching. Waiting.

“Are you hurting?” Trevor murmured, barely keeping it together.

“No,” I whispered. “Just… aware.”

His jaw tightened. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Linda scoffed softly from behind us. “You’re afraid of everything when it comes to her.”

Trevor didn’t even pretend to disagree. “I am.”

The trees thinned ahead. The northern clearing opened before us, illuminated by the glow of torches.

And then I saw her.

A woman standing calmly at the border line.
Barefoot.
Hands folded in front of her.
Cloaked in a soft, pale fabric that looked too ancient to belong in this world anymore.

Her hair was white but not old, not dull, but bright like moonlight caught in a waterfall. Her eyes…

My breath stilled.

Her eyes were silver. Not light gray.

Silver, like polished metal, like mirrors, like the kind of gaze that wasn’t meant to look at you, but through you.

Trevor moved in front of me instantly, blocking my view, his body tensing like a shield preparing to be shattered.

“Don’t come closer,” he warned.

The woman smiled softly. “I have no intention of stepping into your land without permission, Alpha.”

Her voice was warm. Too warm. Like sunlight on water. It didn’t match her presence. It didn’t match the tension crawling through the air.

I stepped around Trevor before he could stop me.

“Evelyn,” he hissed.

“I’m fine,” I lied.

The woman’s gaze landed on my belly immediately.

And something shifted in the wind.

It felt like… recognition.

She bowed her head. “Blessed mother.”

Jason muttered something under his breath. Rowan stiffened. Linda inhaled sharply.

Trevor’s voice dropped into a lethal whisper. “Don’t call her that.”

“It is what she is,” the woman replied gently.

She lifted her gaze to me again but this time, her eyes were different. Wider. Brighter. And full of something that made my knees weaken.

Reverence.

“May I approach?” she asked.

Trevor growled. “Absolutely not.”

“Trevor,” I said softly.

“No.”

I squeezed his hand. He didn’t loosen his grip, but he looked at me, really looked.

There was fear in his eyes I had never seen before. Fear not of danger, but of losing me.

“Just let her speak,” I said gently.

He swallowed, his jaw clenching hard enough to crack bone. “If she takes one step too close…”

“She won’t,” I said.

The woman smiled again, serene, eerily calm. “I came to help.”

Trevor laughed; bitter and cold. “Help? You left symbols burned into our walls. Messages in blood. You threatened her life.”

She tilted her head, confused. “I did none of those things.”

Jason stiffened. “Then who did?”

Her gaze shifted toward the forest behind her. “Someone older. Someone who wants what lies inside her.”

Linda stepped forward, voice sharp. “And what exactly lies inside her?”

The woman’s eyes softened.

“Two children,” she said. “But they are not ordinary. They are not even prophetic.”

She took a breath, slow and reverent.

“They are gateways.”

The word hit the clearing like a physical blow.

Trevor snarled. “Stop talking.”

But the woman continued, speaking only to me now.

“Your twins are connected to the moon in ways you cannot feel yet. They are tied to ancient forces long erased from this world. They are the only ones who can open the veil between what is seen and what has been forgotten.”

Her eyes glowed faintly.
Silver.
Whispering.
Alive.

“And the one who hunts you knows this.”

A chill slid down my spine. “Who is it?”

The woman’s smile slipped.

For the first time since we saw her, she looked afraid.

“He is someone who survived the purge of my kind. Someone who has waited generations for the return of a Crescent-Born mother.”

Trevor’s hand tightened on my waist, pulling me closer instinctively.

“Tell us his name,” he demanded.

The woman shook her head. “If I speak his name here, he will hear it.”

Trevor stepped forward. “Tell me anyway.”

“Trevor—” Rowan warned.

But Trevor ignored him. “Tell me.”

The woman looked at him and her expression changed. Something heavy and sad flickered behind her silver eyes.

“I cannot,” she said softly. “The moment his name enters the air, he will find her.”

Linda exhaled sharply, stepping beside us. “If he’s that powerful, why hasn’t he taken her yet?”

The woman looked at me, her voice a whisper.

“Because he can’t. Not while she carries them.”

My heart stopped.

Trevor’s grip tightened. “Explain.”

The woman’s hands folded in front of her chest, trembling slightly.

“The twins are protecting her from him,” she said. “They are shielding her with their energy. With their presence.”

She paused.

“But once they are born…”

A cold wind swept through the clearing.

“…she will be vulnerable.”

Trevor’s entire body went still — like something inside him shattered and then reformed as something sharper.

I touched his hand. “Trevor—”

“No.” His voice was ragged. “He is not taking you. He is not touching you. He is not breathing near you.”

The woman watched him with sad respect.

“You love her fiercely,” she said.

Trevor growled. “I love her more than life.”

She nodded. “Then you must listen.”

Trevor glared. “I’m listening.”

Her silver eyes glowed.

“You cannot protect her alone.”

Silence fell.

The forest held its breath.

Trevor’s hand tightened painfully around mine.

And the woman stepped forward, not past the border, but closer to the invisible line, her voice dropping into a whisper that felt like prophecy itself.

“If you want her to live,” she said, “you must find the one who hunts her… before the twins are born.”

My breath hitched.

“And Trevor…” she added softly.

He didn’t respond, but his jaw clenched.

“There is one more thing you should know.”

He stared at her, silent.

“The threats you’ve seen… the symbols… the blood…”
She paused.

“He is not sending them to scare you.”
Her eyes moved to me.

“He is sending them to prepare her.”

Trevor went rigid.

“What does that mean?” I whispered.

The woman looked at me and her silver eyes finally revealed something I hadn’t expected.

Pity.

“It means…” she said softly, “…he is not hunting your children.”

She held my gaze.

“He is hunting you.”

Trevor didn’t breathe.

Not for a second.

He stood so still the air around him throbbed with heat. The alpha power inside him rose too fast, straining the edges of the clearing like something was about to break.

Rowan recognized it first.
“Trevor,” he warned.

Jason stepped back.
Linda stiffened.
The warriors tensed, waiting.

But Trevor didn’t move.

His voice, when it finally came, was low and fractured.

“What. Does. He. Want. With. My. Wife.”

The woman’s silver eyes softened again, that same eerie pity that made my stomach twist.

“He wants her alive,” she said. “That much is certain.”

Trevor snapped.

A snarl ripped straight from his chest, raw and violent, like claws tearing through darkness. His wolf surged so hard that his eyes flashed gold, sharp enough to cut through the night.

I grabbed his arm. “Trevor, stop—”

“I’m not stopping,” he growled, shaking, breath wild. “He’s targeting you. You. And I’m supposed to stand here and—”

“You’re not standing here,” I whispered. “You’re fighting. You’re protecting me every second.”

It took everything inside him to look at me instead of the woman.

His eyes softened barely but the fury beneath them didn’t fade. It pulsed stronger. Hotter. Like molten metal waiting for the first touch of air to ignite.

The woman lowered her gaze.

“He wants her alive,” she repeated quietly. “Because she is the one who can open the veil.”

Rowan’s jaw clenched. “The veil to what?”

“To the realm he was banished to,” she answered. “Long ago.”

The clearing fell silent.

Linda blinked, slowly, coldly. “You’re saying he’s not from our world.”

“Yes,” the woman said. “He never was.”

Trevor’s breathing sharpened. “And you think I’m letting her anywhere near anything like that?”

“You may not have a choice,” she said softly.

Another snarl tore out of him, this one so vicious Rowan stepped forward instinctively, hand up.

“Trevor,” Rowan said firmly, “let her speak.”

Trevor’s eyes flicked to him, burning. “I’m done with riddles.”

“You won’t survive the truth if it comes too fast,” the woman said gently. “Neither will she.”

“Let me decide what I can survive,” I said.

Her gaze met mine.
And something shifted.

The air grew colder — not harsh, but heavy. Like someone was pressing a hand between my shoulder blades, pushing me forward. Pushing me toward something I didn’t understand.

“You are stronger than you think,” she whispered.

Trevor bristled. “She doesn’t need strength. She needs safety.”

Linda’s voice cut cleanly through the air. “She needs both.”

Trevor glared at her. “I don’t need commentary.”

“Too bad,” Linda snapped. “You’re not listening. She’s changing. And we cannot smother change.”

“Mother—”

“You would lock her in a cage with your fear,” Linda said, voice cold. “But fear will not save her. Knowledge will.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected.

Trevor froze.

Linda rarely defended me.
She rarely addressed me as anything more than an inconvenience.

But now…

Now she looked at me as if she finally understood why I was in this pack at all.

The woman nodded toward her. “She is right.”

Trevor’s power snapped again, crackling through the air like static. “Enough.”

The woman did not flinch.

She stepped closer, still on her side of the border and lifted her hands slightly.

“I was not sent to manipulate,” she said. “I was sent to prepare.”

“By who?” Rowan asked.

She hesitated.

My heart pounded. “The Moon Goddess?”

The woman slowly nodded.

Trevor swore under his breath.

Linda inhaled sharply. “Impossible. The Goddess hasn’t spoken to anyone in—”

“She speaks only when fate has become too tangled,” the woman said. “And fate has never been more tangled than it is now.”

Trevor stepped forward, shielding me again. “If the Goddess sent you, then tell us what we’re dealing with. Tell us who hunts her. Tell us how to kill him.”

“You cannot kill him,” she said.

Trevor froze.

Jason muttered, “Perfect.”

The woman looked at me.

“Only she can.”

My breath caught.

Trevor turned to her slowly, voice trembling with fury he could barely contain. “She is my pregnant wife. She is carrying our children. She is not a weapon.”

“She was never meant to be,” the woman replied softly. “But she is becoming one all the same.”

I swallowed hard, feeling the twins pulse again under my ribs.

“What does he want with me?” I whispered.

The woman held my gaze and this time, the pity in her eyes turned to sorrow.

“He wants you to open the door for him.”

Trevor’s heartbeat roared loud enough I could feel it.

“And once you do…” she continued softly, “he will no longer need you.”

Linda whispered the words before anyone else could.

“He’ll kill her.”

Trevor barreled forward, shoving Rowan aside, voice breaking.

“If he comes near her—”

“He will not,” the woman interrupted gently. “Not yet. He cannot touch her while she carries them.”

I touched my belly.

The woman’s eyes softened even more. “Your children are protecting you. Shielding you. They are powerful even now.”

Trevor swallowed hard, voice cracking. “What happens after they’re born?”

The woman sighed and for the first time, fear flickered in her silver eyes.

“After the birth,” she said quietly, “your wife’s shield will fade.”

Rowan stiffened.
Jason muttered a curse.
Linda closed her eyes.

Trevor shook his head, voice splintering. “No. No. She’s not losing protection.”

“You must find the architect,” the woman said. “Before the twins arrive. It is the only way.”

Trevor stared at her, barely breathing.

“And how,” he said, “do we find him?”

The woman lifted her hand — and the silver in her eyes flared.

She pointed to me.

“She will lead you.”

I froze. “Me?”

Trevor pulled me to him. “She is not going near him.”

“She won’t have to,” the woman said. “He will come to her.”

I felt the blood drain from my face.

Trevor’s hands tightened painfully on my waist.

“No,” he whispered. “Over my dead—”

The woman looked at him gently.

“That,” she said, “is exactly what he wants.”

Trevor went still.

Completely still.

And then the woman smiled; sad, knowing, ancient.

“Prepare your Luna,” she said softly. “Her journey is beginning sooner than you think.”

A cold breeze swept across the clearing.

And just like that, without smoke or light or sound; the woman vanished.

Gone. As if she had never been there at all.

Trevor pulled me against him and held me so tightly I could barely breathe.

His voice broke against my hair.

“I’m not letting him take you.”

His arms tightened even more.

“I’m not letting fate take you.”

He pressed a shaking kiss to the top of my head, voice raw.

“I’m not losing you.”

I buried my face in his chest, trembling.

Because for the first time…
I truly believed he might.



The walk back to the packhouse felt heavier than the walk out. Not because of the distance because every word the midwife left behind dug into me like roots.

He is hunting you.
Only you can kill him.
Your children are protecting you… for now.
After the birth, the shield will fade.
He will come to you.
He wants Trevor dead.

Those sentences hung inside me like cold smoke, curling through my chest until my breath came uneven.

Trevor didn’t let go of me once.

His arm was locked around my waist, his hand gripping my hip like he expected the earth itself to open and swallow me. His steps matched mine even when I slowed. His breathing synced to mine even when I trembled.

Not protective. Possessive.

Not gentle. Desperate.

By the time we stepped into the packhouse foyer, the tension in the air was so thick even the walls felt rigid. Warriors lined the hall. Elders whispered. Windows were sealed. Doors locked. The whole pack was shifting into attack mode and I was the reason.

When the front door shut behind us, Trevor finally turned me in his arms.

“Sit,” he said, voice raw.

“I’m fine—”

“Sit.”
He wasn’t asking.

Rowan raised a brow. “She’s pregnant, not glass.”

Trevor snapped at him. “She’s everything.”

Rowan shut his mouth.

Linda stepped inside last, closing the door behind her quietly. Her eyes swept over the warriors, the locked windows, the strain on her son’s face…

…and something in her expression tightened.

“Trevor,” she said carefully, “take her upstairs.”

Before he could answer, Jason jogged in from the west corridor, breathless.

“Alpha — you need to see this.”

Trevor’s grip on me tightened. “If this is another symbol—”

“It’s not,” Jason said. “It’s… something else.”

Trevor’s jaw clenched. “Explain.”

Jason swallowed. “We found an object near the ward line. Something left for Evelyn.”

Trevor’s entire body went cold. “Left for her?”

Jason nodded. “Rowan, you should look at it too.”

Rowan sighed. “Wonderful. Prophecy gifts now.”

Trevor glared at everyone. “Evelyn stays behind me.”

I didn’t argue.
Not this time.

We followed Jason down another hallway, left into a smaller chamber, one used for quiet training or meditation. Two warriors stood guard at the door, tense. Inside, on a table, sat something wrapped in dark cloth.

Something small.
Light.
Old.

Trevor positioned himself in front of me before Jason could touch it.

“What the hell is that?” he demanded.

Jason exhaled. “We think it’s… a relic.”

Linda’s face drained of color.

“A relic of what?” Trevor asked.

She stepped forward slowly and reached out. Her fingers touched the cloth.

She recoiled instantly, as if burned.

Trevor grabbed her arm. “Mother?”

Her eyes were wide, not angry, not irritated, afraid.

“That symbol,” she said, voice shaking, “the shattered moon… I’ve seen it.”

Rowan stiffened. “Where?”

She swallowed hard. “In the archives. In the oldest records left from the purge. The symbol belonged to a sect called the Veilwalkers. They hunted Crescent-Born women across generations.”

My stomach twisted. “Why?”

Linda’s gaze flicked to me.
Then my stomach.

“Because Crescent-Born women could open the veil between the mortal realm and the forgotten one. And Veilwalkers wanted to tear it open.”

Trevor growled. “Then why leave her a gift?”

Linda didn’t answer.

Rowan stepped forward and pulled the cloth away from the object.

The room went silent.

Sitting on the table was a tiny bracelet.

A child’s bracelet.
Silver.
Delicate.
Etched with two crescents intertwined.

One crescent whole.
One crescent broken.

Trevor inhaled sharply as fury glazed his eyes.

Jason whispered, “Is that for the twins?”

My voice cracked. “It’s for me.”

Trevor’s head whipped toward me. “Evelyn—”

“I’ve seen it before.”
My voice trembled. “I saw it in a dream. Weeks ago.”

The room froze.

Rowan’s head snapped toward me. “What dream?”

“The one where the forest was burning,” I whispered. “Where someone stood behind me but I couldn’t turn around. The same silver bracelet was in the fire.”

Trevor’s hands trembled. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I thought it was just fear.”

He stepped closer not angry, not yelling, just gutted.

“Nothing you see is ‘just fear’ anymore.”

Before I could answer, Linda leaned closer to the bracelet, forcing her voice steady.

“This isn’t a threat,” she said. “This is a mark.”

Trevor’s jaw locked. “A mark for what?”

Linda’s eyes lifted to mine; sharp, heavy, decisive.

“A mark of belonging,” she whispered. “Someone is telling Evelyn she is already claimed.”

Trevor lunged for the table.

The bracelet shattered under his palm.

Silver splintered across the floor.

And Trevor roared  not at the object, not at Rowan or Jason—

At fate.

At prophecy.

At the idea of anyone touching me.

Rowan placed a steady hand on his shoulder. “Trevor—”

Trevor shook him off, voice breaking.

“He is not claiming my wife.”

His eyes snapped to me — burning, terrified, possessive to the point of pain.

“No one claims you,” he whispered. “No one. You’re mine. And I’m going to kill him before he breathes near you.”

Linda stepped forward suddenly, grabbing Trevor’s arm.

“There’s something I didn’t tell you,” she said.

Trevor growled. “What?”

Linda’s voice dropped.

“When you were born,” she whispered, “I made a deal with the Moon Goddess.”

The room went still.

Rowan blinked. “What?”

Linda swallowed.

“A deal that involved your mate,” she said quietly.

My breath caught. “Me?”

Trevor stared at her, stunned. “Mother… what did you do?”

Her eyes filled with guilt sharpened by years of silence.

“The Goddess told me your true mate would be Crescent-Born,” she said. “And that your line would be hunted for it.”

She looked at me closely. 

“And when I realized who Evelyn was…”
She exhaled shakily.
“I stayed away because I saw the danger coming.”

Trevor stepped back like she had struck him.

“You knew,” he whispered. “All this time.”

Linda didn’t deny it.

“I knew the prophecy would wake,” she said softly. “And I knew you would rather die than lose her.”

Trevor shook, barely containing the rage.

“And yet you still fought her,” Rowan said sharply.

Linda looked away. “Because loving her meant losing him.”

Trevor froze.

The truth hit him like a blade.

And for the first time ever… Trevor didn’t argue.
He didn’t shout.
He didn’t roar.

He just closed his eyes and held me tighter.

Because the prophecy wasn’t new.

The danger wasn’t new.

The fear wasn’t new.

Only I was.

Evelyn.
The Crescent-Born.
The mother.
The gateway.

And someone ancient, someone patient had waited a very long time for me.

Trevor pressed his lips to my hair, voice a fragile whisper.

“I swear I will find him.”

He opened his eyes, gold blazing through the darkness.

“And I swear I will tear him apart.”