A Child Foretold.

A Child Foretold.
As the darkness cleared away and the sun began to set, Lila stirred in her bed and slowly opened her eyes. The first thing she felt was warmth, not from the furs that covered her but from the steady heat of keal's body pressed against hers. The soft beat of his chest against her back, his protective arm curved around her waist, the weight of his other arm resting on her navel. She shot her eyes and smiled to herself, this was what she dreamed of now a reality before her. She followed over and placed a kiss on his forehead but closed her eyes again as she inhaled the sweet scent from his skin—she wasn't ready to far the day yet. 

He quietly lifted his eyes and looked into hers. She could tell he had been awake for a while from the way his fingers moved, moving along the tips of her hips as though fantasizing about her all over again. 

“You're staring,” she whispered into his ears, her voice still heavy with sleep. 

“I think I'm allowed,” he said, pressing his lips to her temple. “You’re mine now.”

Her cheeks flushed, remembering the night before. They had mated and become one, not just by saying their vows to each other, but in a way that their soul belonged together. And yet below the excitement, there was something different. A low pulsing energy beneath her skin. A vibration in her belly. 

She pushed herself to upright, the fur cover sliding off her shoulders. The cold air blew on her skin as she quickly reached for her robe. As she tied the robe, she noticed her hands were trembling. 

Keal noticed immediately. “Are you cold?”

“I’m not…just a little tired” she answered, one hand unconsciously caressing her stomach. “ But it is nothing.” 

He looked at her worried but didn't push the subject. Wolves had high instincts, and Keal’s was sharper than most.

By the time she had rested enough and they stepped outside, the sky was still pale from the first light of dawn. The camp was still quiet, though the scent of damp clay still lingered in the air. Keal took her hand, as they walked towards the stream to wash themselves in preparation for the day, but they hadn't gone far when a figure blocked their path. 

Elder Myra again. 

Her grey hair, braided with threads of crimson, her staff carved with signs and symbols that looked ancient. Her eyes, sharp and alert, rested on Lila. 

“You need to come with me now, child. Elder Myra said, her voice was strict and deliberate. 

Keal’s body tensed beside her. “If this is about yesterday’s vows, it can wait. She—”

“It cannot wait,” Myra interrupted. “The Flame burned last night. We must speak.”

She spoke in finality leaving no room for argument, but Keal wouldn't give up easily. He stepped forward, shielding Lila from her. 

“If she must go with you, then I am coming too”, he replied, his tone becoming hard. 

Myra’s gaze didn’t waver. “This is not for you, Alpha. This is for her.”

They stared at each other in silence and after a long pause, Keal reluctantly let go of lila’s hand and stepped away. “I'll be near by,” he told her, his tone more of command than pleading. He kissed Lila and let her go. 

Without saying another word, the elder turned and walked away as Lila followed behind. The path they took was covered with stones and broken branches from trees but they continued walking until they reached the council chamber—a round open structure of carved pillars encircling a large fire pit. 

The sacred Flame burned at the center, taller than Lila had ever seen it burn. It wasn't an ordinary fire, it was alive and its flames twisted in colors. The heat from the fire washed over her skin, and  it wasn't comfortable. 

Around the large flame of fire, gathered the Elders, each with a different expression. 

“Last night, during your mating,” Myra began, “the Flame flared. It reached beyond the stone circle for the first time in a hundred years.”

Lila  swallowed hard, surprised they knew she and Keal had mated. “What does that mean?”

“That,” Myra said, “is what we must discover.”

One of the Elders stepped forward — Elder Brann, his weathered hands holding a shallow bowl of dark water. “Stand before the Flame,” he instructed.

Her pulse quickened. She obeyed, the brazier’s heat kissing her skin as Myra lifted her hand and pressed two fingers to the mark on her neck — Keal’s mark, the symbol of their bond.

As soon as Myra touched it, Lila felt a shiver run down her spine, heat pooling low in her belly. The mark vibrated and shortly it began to glow, as though lit from within. 

“Breathe,” Myra murmured. “Let the Flame see you.”

Brann dipped his fingers into the bowl and flicked water into the fire. Steam hissed, curling upward, and in it shapes began to form faint, then clearer.

A child.

A baby wrapped in crimson cloth. Its eyes glowed like fire in darkness. And suddenly the vision changed, the child stood alone before a broken stone arch, surrounded by burned lands from war, yet its presence sent darkness away.

The Elders round the circle gasped in surprise. 

Myra’s  fingers tightened on Lila’s shoulder. “It cannot be…”

Another Elder whispered, “The Last Flame.”

The steam dispersed, leaving only the Sacred Fire’s glow and the pounding of Lila’s heart.

“What… what is that?” she demanded, her voice breaking.

Myra turned to her, her lined face suddenly softer, but her eyes no less intense. “Child… you carry the last hope of our kind.”

Lila blinked, her breath catching. “You mean….”

But before she could finish, a distant howl tore through the dawn,  not the call of celebration, but a warning. The Elders stiffened. Myra’s gaze flicked to the forest’s edge.

“They’ve found us.”