Lycan Prince’s Secret Baby (Moonlit Forbidden Love #1)

Chapter 1

Leah

The steep hillside was unforgiving beneath my feet, loose stones skittering as I hurried forward.

“Ahhh!” I slipped on the uneven ground, and the world tilted. My arms flailed in a desperate attempt to stop myself from falling. My heart pounding, I regained my balance, momentarily surprised I remained upright.

But I’d let out a cry. I ducked down in the coarse grasses of the hillside like a deer hiding in a thicket, and my breath caught in my throat as the night closed in around me.

I glanced over my shoulder, realizing that the muted light from the Blood Moon Pack’s quarters had vanished behind the trees, swallowed by darkness.

I blinked, struggling to adjust my eyes to the pitch-black. Storm clouds overhead blotted out even the faintest glimmer of stars. Squatting low, I used my hands like a blind person. My fingers brushed the cool earth, and the feather-soft bristles of grasses stroked my skin.

“Ffff,” I smothered my cry as I yanked my hand away. A stinging nettle had pricked my palm.

Edging around the offending plant, I groped along the ground, hoping to feel the right texture beneath my fingertips. The weight of the pouch around my waist, heavy with sequesters, reminded me to remain in human form. I would have shifted into wolf form if I hadn’t needed the equipment to carry back the precious herb I sought. My wolf’s eyes would cut through the night effortlessly. I knew the darkness would come alive with dozens of scents and sounds that were just out of reach in my current body. Although my senses were heightened compared to humans, I still felt handicapped. As I could only see the hazy outline of leaves and stems looming through the night, touch and smell were my best tools to identify the plants around me.

My wolf stirred within me, rising in response to the fear thumping through my chest at the risk I was taking.

A necessary risk .

I thought about Mary’s ragged breath and feverish slumber, reminding me why I had to keep moving.

I can’t lose anyone else.

My throat tightened as the memory of a fiery red wolf lying too still flooded my thoughts. Numbness washed over me, my heart heavy under the weight of my loss. My past was the perfect tinder to fan the flames of my current despair. I forced the memory away and shifted my focus to the task at hand. Finding that herb could mean life or death for Mary.

My wolf’s instincts raged within me, wanting to break free and protect me. The hurried beat of my pulse made it seem like I’d strayed into unknown territory. And, in a way, these hills were unfamiliar. They’d once been my childhood playground, but I hadn’t been allowed to walk here in years.

Three years ago, this stretch of Alaskan wilderness filled with mossy valleys and glacial rivers had been ripped away from my pack, the Blood Moon. We’d been defeated by the Moonlight Pack. Ever since, our home had become a place of servitude, and our lives were dictated by others.

The memory of all I’d lost surged within me as I recounted the days since Mary’s injury. Her gash was severe. It was critical she got the help she needed.

I patted the sequesters in the pouch at my waist. I took a deep breath, reminding myself that I needed to cut the herb at the base of the stem. Its anti-bacterial and anti-inflammatory properties were the most potent there. I was grateful I had this vital knowledge to help my friend. I was the herbalist of the Blood Moon Pack. The scents of the herbs around me were a language I’d learned long ago from my mother, our pack’s healer.

For Mary. For Mary. For Mary.

The mantra kept me moving. I scrambled up the slope, trying to orient myself in the darkness. The Moonlight Pack never allowed us this far from our quarters or workstations. I racked my brains, trying to remember the lay of the land.

As I reached into tall, leafy shrubs, I realized too late that I’d stumbled into the thick patch of Devil’s Club shrubs on the east side of the hill. The spikes on the underside of their leaves brought tears to my eyes. I swallowed down the sounds of pain threatening to spill from my lips. The ankles of my overalls snagged on their spikey stems, and I backed away to break free.

My hands stung from the scratches. Then, I remembered the Wormweed growing nearby. I scented its fragrant leaves, stooped down, and burrowed my hands into its cool leaves.

As I recovered my breath, my knees grew damp in the moist ground. The cool night wind stirred the grasses. The scent of sage and the sweetness of wildflowers were alive with a whole lifetime of memories. My friends and I had chased butterflies through these sun-dappled grasses. When we’d been older, we’d crested these peaks as we’d learned the thrill of embracing our wolf forms. But now, we were confined to the smallest areas, doing the dirtiest and most labor-intensive jobs.

Mary, me, and many other Blood Moons slogged our guts out daily in the kitchen. The cramped kitchen was chaotic, and the air stunk of grease, simmering broth, and the orders of the Moonlight Pack. I remembered how the rickety work surface had collapsed on Mary. Its sharp metal edge had sliced through the back of her calf, right down to the muscle. We’d cleaned it with boiled warm water and tied a clean cloth around the wound. But that was all we could do.

Days passed, each one a struggle as Mary hobbled around. She insisted she was fine, but I could see the infection creeping in—a telltale redness around the wound that wasn’t healing. With no access to the infirmary or the herbs we desperately needed, I could only watch as her strength dwindled under the weight of the tasks she still wasn’t excused from.

My fists gripped the grasses, ripping out chunks as I thought of the conditions responsible for Mary’s injury. We were overworked and constantly bullied by the Moonlights. Emily’s voice, one of the Moonlights who supervised us in the kitchen, played through my mind, “ Mary, an eighty-year-old works faster than you! Will we get dinner before the next full moon?” She and the other Moonlights took pride in mocking the weakest among us. And at the moment, that was Mary.

Mary’s body, like any shifter’s, should have been able to heal such a wound quickly. But as it was, we Blood Moons were hardly getting enough food to sustain us, and with the labor-intensive work and poor living conditions we endured, it wasn’t any wonder that Mary’s body hadn’t had the energy to heal her.

But I will heal her.

The Moonlights may withhold access to the infirmary and ban us from these hills, but the night brought opportunity. The cloak of darkness meant I was less likely to be spotted by the Moonlight patrol. Instinctively, I ducked lower to the ground as I thought of the Moonlight soldiers patrolling. A prickle of fear moved down my spine at the thought of getting caught. Despite the cool breeze, sweat prickled my forehead. If I was caught, the Moonlights would be swift in their punishment.

I fought the dread building in my gut and drew my hands away from the soothing leaves of Wormweed.

Resolution seared through me. I knew I was on the east side of the hill. I’d found the Devil’s Club and the Wormweed. With my step surer, I continued my hunt. I seemed to remember that there was a patch of pomenta growing higher and to the east.

I scrambled forward, and then my hands froze. A minty scent filled my nose. The pads of my fingers fell softly over the plant in front of me, and my heart climbed into my throat. This time, it was for joy. After what had felt like an eternity, the herb was right here. Its silky, diamond-shaped leaves and unmistakable spearmint freshness told me I’d found it.

Pomenta.

“Thank you, Igaluk,” I offered up a hushed prayer to our moon goddess. Mary was going to be all right. I knew this herb would fight the infection that her body hadn’t been able to.

With elation coursing through my veins, I removed the sequesters from my pouch, checking three times that I had the base of the stem before carefully cutting the herb. Tucking it and the sequesters into the pouch at my waist, I hurried back down the hill.

I was already running through the preparation of the herb and thinking of the makeshift things I might use to make a DIY poultice when I stole past the shadows of the trees near our quarters. It felt blissful to see the few lights illuminating the shanty-like huts of my people through the trunks of the trees after the complete darkness that had blanketed the hillside.

As I darted between the shabby, run-down wooden huts of the Blood Moon cabins—the slave quarters—a sound suddenly reached my ear.

Gravel beneath hurrying feet.

“Hey, you!”

My blood curdled. Fear climbed up my throat, and I knew I’d been spotted by the Moonlight Pack. Suddenly, two Moonlight soldiers appeared from out of the night. Two burly men, whose features I couldn’t decipher in the shadows, grabbed me.

One man seized me, and the other soldier came up in front of me, glowering as he demanded, “What are you doing outside?”

My heart drummed, ricocheting through me, and I knew I had to distract them from the precious herb at my waist. Maybe this would be okay if they didn’t notice it.

Hastily, I stammered, “I couldn’t sleep. So, I was taking a walk.” Desperate, I gestured behind me, praying they would go there. “But I heard a strange noise back there, so I hurried back.”

The soldier’s stare raked me with distrust. My stomach clenched as his eyes zeroed in on the pouch. In an instant, his big, clumsy hands were rifling through it.

Anger flushed through me, heating my face. Desperation churned in my gut when his hands stilled on the sequesters and the precious leaves.

In a moment, the soldier’s voice dripped with mockery. “You wanted a walk, eh? How about we take one now?”

My pulse spiked as he grasped my other arm. Both soldiers hauled me away from my pack’s quarters. I hurried to keep up with their steps, knowing they’d drag me if I didn’t keep moving.

In a blur, we passed the outer concrete buildings of the Moonlight Pack. Ordinarily, I didn’t go farther than the kitchen building on the fringes of this area. But now, the soldiers marched me past more sturdy, well-kept structures, with trim lawns, hedges, and trees surrounding them. The areas were well-lit, too. While we Blood Moons made do with firelight in our quarters, the Moonlights had electricity, run from generators. The bright light made the grand stone buildings seem even more intimidating. A couple of other Moonlights stood outside one of the buildings. One of the soldiers restraining me called over to them, “Fetch Elder Sam. Tell him we’ve caught a Blood Moon stealing.”

My heart crashed against my chest, and nausea threatened. The Moonlights ran on ahead. The soldiers’ cruel fingers bit farther into my arms, propelling me toward the center of the well-lit compound.

I barely noticed anything until we arrived before the grandest stone building.

I knew this building from whispered rumors: the Moonlights’ Council Chambers.

One of the soldiers wrenched back the double doors, and the other one marshaled me through. The breeze was shut out as the heavy door thudded behind us. A long corridor, gilded with bronzed runes, sprawled before me. Even as panic tore through me, the opulence of this building was a slap in the face—a reminder of the wealth the Moonlights held while we lacked basic medicine.

Sam, one of the elders of the Moonlight pack, sat behind a long table. His black hair, streaked with silver, was disheveled as if he’d just gotten up. Otherwise, the fine tunic, embellished with rune-marks, gave him an air of authority. The shiny table in front of him bore their pack’s symbol, a circle denoting Igaluk as the full moon with two crescent moons on either side of her.

Igaluk was the moon goddess that both packs revered. But the Moonlight Pack viewed themselves as her chosen people, exalted above all others.

Elitist bullshit.

Our pack’s belief had always been that Igaluk’s moon shone down upon all shifters. We believed it was our responsibility to use her light to help us work together. With determination, I tried to hold faith that the goddess would help me find a way to get back to my pack and to Mary.

Mary.

Sam’s forehead was furrowed with disdain, creating more lines as he scowled at me. My gut twisted at the sight of Emily, his daughter, seated beside him. Her hair was tugged back in a tight braid, accentuating her sharp features. Dark lashes framed the malicious glint in her eyes. She was the same age as my friends and I, and she enjoyed making our lives miserable in the kitchens. While “supervising” us, she generally wore jeans and a T-shirt. Tonight, she was dressed in a burgundy dress, and my dislike for her simmered beneath my skin as I took in how polished she looked.

“We found these on her,” the Moonlight patrol soldier announced, his tone grave as he handed over the sequesters and the herbs he had removed from my pouch.

Sam’s expression darkened as if I’d been caught committing a most heinous crime. I wanted to scoff at him. Surely, they knew that if I wanted to do any harm, my wolf had teeth and claws far more dangerous than a gardening tool.

“I needed to cut some pomenta,” I started.

Emily’s dark eyes sparkled with delight, and she exclaimed, “ She’s the thief.”

“So, this is where our missing supplies have been getting to,” Sam agreed as if my fate was already sealed.

I shook my head. I’d only stolen tonight. I’d cut a herb once, out of desperation to save my friend. Within, my wolf bared its fangs, feeling cornered. Emily had said the thief, and Sam was accusing me of stealing multiple times.

I opened my mouth to deny their accusation and set them right, “I only took it…” But the rush of cool air washed over me as a man entered the room, cutting me off again.

“Kyle,” Sam exclaimed. “I didn’t realize you’d be sitting in on the council tonight.”

“What case are we presiding over tonight?” Kyle asked. There was an authority in his tone, but beneath it lay a spark of something else, too. It was curiosity, perhaps. His voice was a low rumble that resonated through the room and seemed to lodge in my chest.

I recognized the man’s name. Kyle was the son of the Moonlight Pack's Alpha. He was the future heir.

Great. This night just keeps getting better.

I’d never met the Moonlight’s heir before, but from what I knew, he’d been away at university for a few years. He was a couple of years older than my twenty-two. Word was, he’d finished his studies and returned to the pack last month. The other word flying around about him was that he despised us Blood Moons.

The atmosphere shifted palpably as Kyle made his way toward the council’s table. His presence was magnetic, commanding the room with a silent authority. He wore a navy shirt, the material taut over his wide shoulders and chest. His slacks emphasized his tall, muscular frame. He moved easy and self-assured, with the confidence of someone who knew his strength. He exuded both power and restraint as he took a seat beside Emily.

Sam explained my “crime,” and I noticed how Kyle’s expression shifted slightly, caution cloaking his face. The light caught the contours of his chiseled jawline. For a moment, I was captivated by the play of shadow across his face.

Then, his eyes cut to me. His electric green stare held me captive more than the grip of the soldier. In that moment, the air itself felt charged. My breath hitched in my throat as I felt Kyle’s regard—deep and assessing, as if he saw right down to my marrow.

Intuition washed over me like moonlight dappling water. The moon goddess, Igaluk, reached out to me. I sensed her spirit wrapping around me. Heat radiated through me as my wolf rose up, drawn to this man, recognizing who he was immediately—

Kyle is our fated mate .