Chapter 201 Stubborn Old Bat
Deep within the sanctuary of her mind, Leela’s inner wolf was pacing frantically. The beast was fighting her, fighting the suffocating heat that was finally starting to bleed through the edges of the illusion. But the wolf knew what the human half didn't—the fire was saving them.
As the meadow continued to wither and turn to ash around her, a sudden, bright sound cut through the heavy air. A sweet, unmistakable giggle flowed through the dying trees, echoing like a lifeline from the world above.
Leela’s breath hitched. She looked up, her silver eyes widening as the sound wrapped around her heart. "It was Briar," she murmured, her voice trembling as the truth began to pierce the veil. "My Briar."
Then came another sound—a proud, babbling laugh that she would recognize anywhere.
"Oh, Caspian," Leela whispered, a fresh tear slipping down her cheek as the illusion of the wooden swing finally dissolved completely into dust. "My little prince."
Fennigan stepped closer, the blistering heat of the real-world vault radiating from his skin even here in the vision. He reached out, his large, calloused hand firmly grabbing her shoulder. He gently but resolutely turned her to face him, forcing her to look away from the fading dream and into his burning, desperate silver eyes.
"It's been a very long, terrifying day, Sparky," Fennigan said, his voice a thick, emotional rumble that vibrated right through to her soul. "Let's go home."
Panic suddenly flared in Leela’s chest. She wrapped both arms protectively around the emerald woven sling, her fingers digging into the fabric. She looked down at the tiny, sleeping face resting against her heart.
"I can't leave Zephyr!" she cried, the sheer terror of a mother about to lose her child shattering her serene composure. The thought of abandoning her baby to the cold was paralyzing.
Fennigan didn't let go of her shoulder. He reached up with his free hand, gently covering both of hers where they clutched the infant. His touch was an anchor, heavy and real, stripping away the last of the magic's deception.
"Yes, you can," Fennigan told her, his voice soft but carrying the absolute, undeniable truth of her mate. "Because he isn't born yet, Leela."
As the words washed over her, the realization finally clicked into place. Leela gasped, looking down. The woven sling and the sleeping infant began to dissolve into shimmering light, the elemental magic returning its protective energy back to her core, wrapping tightly around her womb where her son actually rested—safe, unborn, and sound.
The meadow collapsed into darkness, and the overwhelming, suffocating heat of the real world rushed in to take its place.
As the shimmering light of her unborn son settled safely back deep into her core, another sound pierced the fading dream. It was a tiny, reedy squeal of absolute delight—baby Iggy, safe and alive in the real world, his cry weaving seamlessly with the joyful babble of her twins.
The sound was the final anchor she needed. Leela looked up at Fennigan, the terrifying illusion completely broken by the reality of her family. She reached up, her hands sliding into his hair, and pulled him down into a fierce, desperate kiss.
"Okay," Leela whispered against his lips, tears of relief finally falling. "Let's go home."
The sunlit meadow collapsed instantly. The ancient oak tree, the green grass, and the golden light faded into absolute blackness before exploding into a blinding, physical nightmare.
Leela gasped, her silver eyes flying open. The serene scent of wildflowers was violently replaced by the smell of scorched wool, ozone, and sweat. The suffocating, 120-degree heat of the vault crashed down on her chest like a physical weight, instantly drawing a thick layer of sweat across her skin.
"Fenn," Leela choked out, her hands weakly clawing at the heavy, stifling blankets piled on top of her. "Fenn, I can't breathe..."
Fennigan didn't hesitate. His body was battered by the explosion, his mind fractured by the horrors of Damon's bunker, and his muscles were trembling from sheer, bone-deep exhaustion. But looking down at his conscious, breathing mate, he found a well of strength he didn't even know he possessed. The Alpha let out a guttural grunt of pure willpower as he reached under her, scooping Leela up into his massive arms, heavy blankets and all.
He hauled her off the cot, holding her tightly against his bare chest. His heavy boots pounded against the concrete as he carried his mate out of the sweltering, hellish furnace of the vault, crossing the threshold and collapsing to his knees in the blessedly cool, filtered air of the hallway right next to Jax and Ginny.
Back inside the safe room, the roaring industrial heaters continued to blast. Unfazed by the emotional reunion and entirely unbothered by the blistering temperatures that had driven the strongest wolves in the pack to their knees, Veda didn't even pause to celebrate.
The Elder simply gripped her hawthorn cane, turned her back on the open door, and moved straight from Leela's empty cot over to Elana's.
Back inside the blistering furnace of the safe room, Veda didn't even pause to wipe her brow. Ignoring the chaotic, emotional reunion spilling out into the cool hallway behind her, the Elder simply gripped her hawthorn cane and moved straight from Leela's empty cot over to Elana's.
She reached out, fully prepared to dive into the former Luna's mind to drag her out of the cold.
But Elana’s resilient, stubborn old wolf had apparently been doing the heavy lifting all along.
Before Veda's withered hand could even touch her forehead, Elana’s eyes snapped open. With a sudden, startling burst of strength, the older woman bolted upright, furiously shoving at the mountain of steaming wool piled on top of her.
"Get all these damn blankets off of me!" Elana croaked, her voice rough and raspy but filled with her usual, authoritative fire. She kicked her legs out, glaring around the shimmering, 120-degree room. "Why is it so hot in here?!"
Veda just arched an eyebrow, leaning on her cane as she watched the former Luna throw a fit.
Elana swung her legs over the edge of the cot, preparing to stand up and march right out of the room. But as the fog of the Winter's Breath finally cleared from her mind, the reality of the night crashed down on her all at once. Magda's betrayal. The freezing poison.
And Damon.
Elana froze. The angry flush of the heat drained rapidly from her face, leaving her as pale as Fennigan had been moments ago. Her silver eyes widened in sheer horror as the memory hit her.
"Oh..." Elana whispered, her voice completely devoid of its usual strength. "...Damon."
Her eyes rolled back into her head, and Elana slumped forward.
Veda barely caught her shoulder, easing the unconscious woman back down onto the pillows with a heavy, exasperated sigh. The Elder shook her head, looking completely unfazed by the dramatic display. "Stubborn old bat," Veda muttered under her breath, tossing a single, lighter blanket back over her.
Out in the hallway, Jax, who was just settling his swaddled wife onto the gurney, saw his mother drop like a stone through the observation glass.
"Mom!" Jax yelled.