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

Chapter 16

Leah

It was delivery day in the small valley town of Matsuna, and excitement buzzed in the air as I unpacked the herbal supplies brought in by the family-run fleet of planes. Fresh provisions from the city were a rare treat in this remote haven, nestled among rugged frozen lakes and tundras, two hundred miles from the nearest urban center. We relied on these planes once a month, their arrival a lifeline to civilization.

A soft lullaby floated through the snug kitchen. I smiled as I watched Lyvia cradling my daughter Lina in her arms. “The Blood Moon Rising” was Lina’s favorite, and my heart warmed as I glimpsed her drifting into slumber.

“Hush now, my darling, the stars are bright,

They whisper dreams of our pack tonight.

In the heart of the forest, where wild things roam,

You’ll find the strength to call it home.”

The melody hung in the air, a spell of warmth illuminating our makeshift sanctuary. After escaping the Moonlight Pack, I’d sought refuge with Naomi, the witch who lived a few valleys over. In my desperation to sever the mate bond with Kyle, I’d turned to her for help, but she’d advised me that someone with more experience would be better at performing such a complex ritual. That’s how Lyvia came into my life—a young witch, brimming with a vibrant spirit who had empathized with my plight. But when she’d discovered I was pregnant, she warned me the ritual would put my child at risk.

Suddenly, the familiar sound of boxes being unloaded echoed from the subterranean level of our home, pulling me from my thoughts. I frowned. Lina had only just gone down for her nap. I should have remained upstairs, but the allure of delivery day was always hard to resist. Each box held promised comfort and sustenance, a reprieve from the isolation we often felt.

Our home—a six-story marvel—was carved into the rock of the cliff. Constructed from driftwood, whale bone, and lumber, each beam was steeped in stories of those who had found shelter within its walls. Lyvia often spoke of its legacy, how it had served many over the centuries. Although a young woman herself, she said the walls had called to her with their magic—the materials suffused with enchantments that strengthened those she’d placed herself to keep us safe from harm.

“Oh!” I exclaimed as I looked down at the box I’d just ripped open, my heart battering against my ribcage.

Lyvia set Lina gently down in her cradle—a small, cozy cocoon surrounded by colorful woven blankets. “What is it?” she asked, her amber eyes sparkling as she approached.

“Lamnas,” I said breathlessly. My stomach swooped—half excitement and half anxiety. “Is that everything we need?”

Lyvia flicked her glossy curtain of long black hair over her shoulder, the sun streaming through the large kitchen window illuminating her golden skin. The fall sunshine was magnified as it bounced off the frozen lake outside, dappling our kitchen and illuminating the beauty of our little bubble of safety.

“Yeah, that’s everything,” Lyvia said. “Lamnas—the bread—is the symbol of nourishment existing between two mates. It has to be fresh. So, it’s best we use it immediately. I could prep everything this afternoon. Do it tonight—if you like?”

My stomach clenched. A knot of anxiety tightened in my chest, too. The prospect of performing the severing ritual, the one designed to cut the mate bond with Kyle, loomed large in my mind. It had been three months since Lina’s birth, but I had been weak after she’d been born, too weak to undergo the ritual. The weeks of captivity early on in my pregnancy, followed by the frantic month on the run, had taken a toll on my health.

Just then, a tall, broad-shouldered man stooped through the low-framed door of the kitchen. “This is the last of the herbal supplies,” Roman announced, setting another box on the table. His very presence radiated warmth like the aga burning behind me.

Once, Roman and I had been betrothed, but our relationship had long morphed into that of siblings when we’d been teenagers. Being reunited with him had been one of my life’s greatest joys, alongside welcoming my daughter into the world. Roman had been my anchor, his steady support a lifeline as I navigated motherhood. He’d held my hand during my labor, and that connection had deepened our relationship into something more profound.

At his side again, along with a dozen of our Blood Moon Anuki and Nukai who had escaped with him, we lived in freedom. It was a freedom carefully preserved by Lyvia’s enchantments protecting us from the prying eyes of curious humans, Reginald, and the Moonlights. It was Lyvia who had reunited us. She had always known their whereabouts, having aided the Blood Moons in eluding Reginald and the treachery surrounding the Moonlight Pack.

“Thanks,” I said, setting my hands on the table beside the box Roman had just set down. I locked eyes with him, fortifying myself to share the news. “Lyvia’s going to perform the ritual tonight, Roman. It’s time.”

“ Nuka , are you sure?” Roman’s voice was laced with concern. The worry etched on his handsome face mirrored the complexity of our shared history. I understood why he might question my readiness. This was a serious undertaking, one that could have a significant toll on my body and mind, both of which had suffered over the last year.

“ Anuk , I’m ready. I want this,” I said, my voice firm, determination coursing through me. “I can’t have that bond still existing when we face them.”

Roman’s azure-blue eyes held me. “You know your heart, Leah. Just don’t let fear push you into this.”

Gratitude surged through me as I glanced around at my family. Roman had told me about the treachery surrounding Kyle’s family and how Kyle’s father had framed the Blood Moon wolves as the aggressors. In truth, a Black Moon wolf had killed the Moonlight Luna, and Roman knew that Reginald had arranged the murder in order to give him cause to declare war against our pack. Reginald had slain the Blood Moon Alpha and his Beta, my father, to remove those who knew the truth. The echo of that loss haunted me. It was a constant reminder of our struggle. Thank the moon goddess, Roman had gotten away.

Just then, Lina started to cry. “I’ve got it,” Lyvia said, swiftly making her way to Lina. The witch had been goddess sent, I swore. Not only had she reunited me with my pack, but she’d become part of our family here. I’d named her Lina’s godmother and felt grateful every day for the bond we shared.

Lyvia scooped Lina up, her soothing voice bringing with it the calm of ancient woods.

“In the shadow of the ancient trees,

Where the moonlight weaves its gentle breeze,

Close your weary eyes, my little one,

The night will guard you ‘til the rise of sun.

My heart swelled and ached all at once. “I want her to grow up there, Roman,” I whispered, thinking of the ancient trees and rushing rivers in our pack’s song—the melodies that filled our spirits—the one Lina already loved so well because something deep within her responded to it.

“But they took it from us—the place that’s shaped us for generations. I can’t allow this bond with Kyle to interfere with our pack’s fight to take our home back. I need to do this. No matter the cost.”

Roman put his arm around me, pulling me to his side, a silent promise that we would weather this storm together. We watched as Lina settled back into slumber. “That place will shape her, Nuka . And we’ll grow old there, too, I promise you.”

Over the years, Roman and the other fugitive Blood Moons had been quietly gathering strength, planning to reclaim their territory and avenge themselves on Reginald. Hope surged through me at the idea of returning to our rightful lands. I imagined Lina chasing butterflies in the wildflowers and how I would teach her the names of the herbs, just as my mother had taught me. I pictured her joy as she shifted, tearing through the woodlands, cresting the hills we had once known as young wolves.

The rest of the day slipped by in a whirlwind of activity. We unpacked supplies, and the earthy scents of dried herbs filled the room as I joined Lyvia in grinding various roots in a mortar and pestle, making pastes and tinctures for the ritual.

By afternoon, Lyvia insisted I rest while she made the final preparations. I left her steeping herbs in hot water, the bouquet garnis releasing fragrant tendrils of steam that spiraled through the kitchen. Goosebumps prickled along my arms as I bundled a sleeping Lina into my arms, imagining the steam and scents as a prelude to the magic we would unleash tonight, these ethereal ribbons fraying the bonds tying me to Kyle.

When the late afternoon light spilled through the windows, casting long shadows across my bedroom on the fourth floor, I placed Lina into her crib before laying down for a nap. Disoriented, I woke to a sharp, persistent cry shattering the tranquility.

Lina’s high-pitched wail cutting through my dreamscape had me surging out of bed. I thought she was hungry and cradled her against me, but she refused to nurse. Her tiny face scrunched up, and her brow knitted in obvious discomfort. My breath hitched when I touched her skin. She was burning hot, her skin clammy and feverish.

“No, no, sweetheart,” I murmured, panic clawing at my throat, my heart drumming fiercely. I hurried across the room, urgency flooding the air like a thunderstorm. I had to get her to Lyvia.

Suddenly, she went limp, her small body growing heavier in my arms. My heart dropped as fear spiraled into the depths of my being.

“Lina!” I shrieked, a sound desperate and raw scraping from my throat. I thrust myself into motion, hurrying down the hallway, clutching her to me.

“Lyvia!” I yelled, my voice echoing as I rushed down the stairs, the world blurring into a frantic whirl. The cold stone and beams of the walls rushed past me as adrenaline pulsed through me with every footfall. My heart felt like it was imploding as I burst into the kitchen.

Lyvia’s expression instantly sharpened with concern.

“Lina passed out! She’s burning up!” I cried, panic smothering me.

The witch was at my side in an instant, her movements fluid and decisive. She took Lina from my trembling arms, her hands steady as she began to assess my daughter’s condition. I could see the fear flickering behind Lyvia’s composure, the urgency palpable in her quickened breaths.

Efficiently, she gathered the fragrant water, distilled aromas that would symbolize mine and Kyle’s essences, for the ritual. She bathed Lina’s forehead, wrists, and neck. The air around us filled with the sweet aroma of wildflowers and pine. Almost immediately, Lina let out a soft sigh, her breathing deepening.

My heart, which had been racing, began to ease as I synchronized with my daughter’s steadier heartbeat.

“It’s caused by the imbalance of her lineage,” Lyvia murmured, her voice strained as she continued to examine Lina’s feverish skin. “With your blood and Kyle’s combined, it’s creating dissonance. It’s been exacerbated by Kyle’s absence.”

Her words slammed into me, the air leaving my lungs. “What do you mean?” I retorted. “How can you reproach me for taking her away from Kyle?” Anguish twisted within me, a mixture of defiance and despair.

Lyvia’s gaze softened as it held mine. “I’m not reproaching you,” she said gently, her tone soothing but firm. “But we need to act quickly. Lina’s going to be plagued with more than just fever. I’ve heard of this happening when two wolves from different packs have offspring. In the language of the moon goddess, it’s called Amaruq Kuk .”

My heart stampeded— “ warring wolves .”

“I’ve heard of children suffering from terrible nightmares, and in the worst cases of their inner wolf dying, leaving the child unable to ever shift,” Lyvia continued.

It felt as if the ground were giving way beneath me. The potential of my daughter losing her wolf pulled me down as if I were plummeting into the depths. Earlier today, I’d imagined her running the same lands that my pack and I had for generations, and now, as well as losing those lands, she might lose her wolf. It was a cruelty I couldn’t contemplate inflicting on her.

“Leah,” Lyvia added, her voice unsteady. “I should have warned you about this.”

I shook my head, pain twisting my expression. “You knew this could happen?”

“I did,” she admitted, her gaze dropping to the floor before meeting mine again. “But I hoped... I hoped it wouldn’t come to pass. I thought Lina might be lucky. The signs hadn’t manifested. Usually, children show symptoms straight after birth. I didn’t want to burden you with a threat that seemed minimal.”

“Burden me?” I echoed, my voice rising. “You should have told me.”

“I know,” she said, her voice tense with regret.

Despair washed over me, the weight of our reality settling in my chest. “And now?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “What do we do now?”

Lyvia’s expression grew resolute. “We fight this. We have to act quickly to restore balance.”

“How?” I demanded, my voice trembling.

“You can’t sever the mate bond with Kyle,” Lyvia said, her voice calm but forceful, “And we need him to come here to help treat her illness.”

The prognosis landed like a sledgehammer. My mate, the very one I’d sought to escape, was now key to my daughter’s survival.

“Lina needs him?” My voice broke, a mix of disbelief and sorrow ringing through me. I wanted to scream, to lash out at the universe for this twisted irony. I had fought to free myself with everything I had from that man. But no matter how hard I fought, no matter how much I tried, everything seemed to drag me back to him. With my lungs burning, it was as if I were back in that stifling prison cell in the depths of the Moonlight compound again. I tried to remind myself that I was safe here with Lyvia, Roman, and my other pack mates, surrounded by a sanctuary I’d cherished for almost a year, where the walls hummed with spells of protection. Yet as the weight of danger pressed in on icy Lina, this sanctuary felt hollow.

As the walls closed in around me, I was faced with the brutal truth; I had to reach across the chasm that separated me and Kyle and summon the very man who had caused me so much pain.

“Kyle must come,” I stated, the words heavy with resignation as I digested this new reality, sourness churning in my stomach.

“Yes, because Lina’s a part of you both. She needs both of you to cure her,” Lyvia confirmed, her tone resolute.

Anger surged through me at my friend’s pronouncement. The memory of realizing I was pregnant with Lina flooded back—the suffocating fear of being imprisoned by Reginald, knowing Kyle hadn’t even cared enough about me to come see me. I vowed again to myself that even if Lina required Kyle for her healing, he would never be her father. She was mine, and mine alone. Once she recovered from this illness, I swore I would break free from the despotic binding chaining me to him.