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

Chapter 19

Kyle

The small room was a stark contrast to the cavernous hall where the blood oath and fight had taken place. It had a rustic charm, though. Its rocky walls and open-beamed ceiling hummed with protective enchantments. In one corner, a modest fireplace sat, its stones cold.

At least there was a fireplace and coals, I reminded myself. My thoughts traveled to the Blood Moons back in our pack lands, and I hoped that the hard-won improvements that I’d managed to attain for them, such as heating, hadn’t already been overthrown by my father.

I set the clothes that Roman had given me, simple khaki pants and a plain, well-worn shirt, down on the narrow bed. It was made up with handwoven blankets, offering little assurance against the Alaskan night. I slipped on the clothes. The fabric felt foreign against my skin, a reminder that I was a visitor in this place. Once again, I thought of the Blood Moons back in our pack lands, of those horrendous gray overalls they wore. Wasn’t this a tiny taste of what they’d experienced?

As I finished dressing, regret haunted me. Then, a soft knock broke my thoughts, and a rush of adrenaline coursed through my veins. I knew that sound deep in my bones. That was Leah’s knock. Anticipation pulsed in my ears as I hurried to the door. My heart drummed with the promise of finally having the chance to speak to Leah. It was a moment I’d both yearned for and dreaded since she’d escaped.

But, as I drew back the door, the breath in my lungs hitched. My heart lurched in confusion and apprehension at the sight of her.

“Leah, come in,” I said, my voice low. I was torn between wanting her forgiveness and an overwhelming urge to simply drink her in. The wool jumper she wore was a pastel blue, complimenting the stormy depths of her eyes.

Yet, the moment she crossed the threshold, the cabin seemed even colder. Leah’s eyes were frosty with caution, cloaking the vulnerability that had once danced freely in them.

I noticed the way she shifted her weight, cradling her baby close as if shielding the child, or herself, from me. My heart sank at her guardedness. Each tense breath she let out was a reminder of the irrevocable mistakes I’d made.

“Thank you for agreeing to this,” she said. “Lyvia will be along in a moment.” Her voice was carefully neutral as if she couldn’t trust herself to show emotion. I had imagined this moment of finally being reunited with Leah a thousand times. But now, beneath the weight of her pain, the fantasy crumbled.

“Of course,” I began, swallowing hard. Her thanking me felt wrong on so many levels. I’d do anything to try to make up for the way I’d treated her in the past. On top of that, her daughter’s suffering from this illness was caused by me and my pack. We were responsible for robbing the Blood Moon Pack of their lands and Lina’s wolf of her strength. But I didn’t know how to express all that, so I said, “I want to help in any way I can. I know it won’t make up for everything that happened in the past, but if I can help you and your family in any way, I will.”

The tiny girl in her arms stirred slightly as if she sensed the tension hanging between us. Or, perhaps, she was simply responding to her mother’s tension. As she moved in Leah’s arms, her fragile face came into view, and an onslaught of emotions surged within me: despair, guilt, and…affection. I knew this was the child of the woman I loved and another man , but that couldn’t overshadow my desire to help her and her mother.

The child was both a miracle in her own right and a reminder of Leah’s life without me. The baby was a testament to the bond and potential family I could have had with Leah if I hadn’t made so many mistakes.

A knock sounded at the door, and I went to it, feeling as if it were a lifeline amidst the chaotic feelings threatening to choke me.

Lyvia, the witch, stood outside my door. Her long, glossy hair shimmered in the lamplight like the midnight sky, framing her vibrant golden skin. The dark green velvet dress hugged her figure, lending her an aura of elegance and mystique.

“Kyle,” she greeted me. “I’m so pleased you’ve been brought here to help Lina.”

“Me, too,” I said, my tone low with restrained emotion. I meant it wholeheartedly. I held back the door, letting the witch into the room before closing it.

Lyvia’s amber stare went from me to Leah. “Are you ready?” The directness in her tone told me they were close. My heart twisted, instinctively jealous of anyone who had the luxury of knowing Leah.

“I’m ready,” she said, that same awful neutrality suffusing her words. I sensed again how she was refusing to show any emotion around me. Each word felt like a barrier, pushing me back, away from her, where I belonged. My stomach clenched. I’d wronged her and the bond that I should have nourished.

Lyvia nodded. “I’m going to guide you both through the process of giving your strength to the child. Leah, if you’ll sit on the bed.” The witch’s voice soothed some of the tension in the air, cleansing it like sage smoke.

She waited for Leah to sit down on the edge of the bed. Leah’s gaze didn’t lift from her daughter, and my heart squeezed for how much she must be suffering from watching this illness inflict her.

“Now, Kyle,” Lyvia directed me. “If you kneel down beside them, I’d like you to gently place your hand on Lina’s face.”

As I knelt beside Leah, my trembling fingers brushed against the soft curve of the baby’s cheek. Though I longed to see Leah’s gaze, I could only focus on the child, who seemed to call to me. The pale skin, shadowed by illness but still radiant, turned my sorrow into a fervent need to help.

The witch brought out a cloth and two vials. When she unstopped the first, the scent of pine needles wafted in the air. She dabbed the water on Lina’s forehead. Then, she unstopped the next, and it was as if a meadow of wildflowers had sprung up. Instantly, I thought of Leah’s scent, which I was already conscious of. I gritted my jaw, trying to fight the temptation to look up at Leah.

Luckily, Lyvia’s voice rang steadily. “Call to your beast, Kyle. Summon his power and strength, and urge it into Lina.” She had finished dabbing this fragrant water onto the baby’s brow.

“I want you to do the same, Leah,” the witch continued.

Lyvia began to chant her incantation in the moon goddess’s language, “ Amaraq Tuk. Igaluk, Maguruk. Auk Agaktuk. Anuyaut Aliuktuk. Tumaksrugaa .”

The goddess’s words sounded guttural and sharp, like the primal growls and snarls of our beasts.

I closed my eyes, feeling for the well of my wolf’s energy while stroking Lina’s cheek with reverence. With each breath, I leaned into the moment and summoned forth the strength within me, nurturing it with purpose. Then, I sensed a purity that tugged at my inner beast. I reached out to it and to her, feeling an ethereal connection.

Energy flowed from me, wrapping around Lina like a soft blanket, warm yet powerful. I could feel the delicate pulse of her life, electrifying as our essences began to fuse, drawing together into something greater than ourselves. I felt the spill of my spirit into her, a bond forming as I poured everything I had into the fragile child.

“ Amaraq Tuk. Igaluk, Maguruk. Auk Agaktuk. Anuyaut Aliuktuk. Tumaksrugaa .” Lyvia’s rhythmic incantation ebbed and flowed like the crash of waves on the shore until it faded. With every breath, I could feel the child’s weak spirit wrapping around mine. Her wolf was awakening in response to the infusion of my energy.

Opening my eyes, I watched with bated breath as color suffused Lina’s cheeks. I could see the strength I’d awarded her. Magic coursed through her. I almost let out a gasp of relief as the bright light of hope danced in her. The sight sent a wave of affection through me, a strange connection binding me to her. As a longing to hold her took hold of me, I realized it must be the infusion of spirit I’d given her making me feel this way.

I settled on drinking in her well-being. The contrast of her weak state just moments before held me in awe, amplifying the joy of the moment. Leah instinctively brought her daughter closer to her, forcing me to remove my hand from Lina’s cheek. I watched Leah’s shoulders relax as she took in the sight of Lina’s healing. The tension between us softened slightly.

The connection zipping through my veins lingered on as I watched Leah cradling her daughter. It took everything in my willpower not to seek to be closer to both of them. The urge to pull them to me in this moment felt so overwhelming that I found myself standing up instead.

“This was a great start,” Lyvia said, the steadiness and calm, at complete odds with the turbulent need coursing through me.

My chest ached as I watched Leah holding her daughter closer to her, delighting in the changes she saw, too.

“Many more treatments will be needed,” the witch continued, “and we’ll require your cooperation, Kyle.”

“As long the child recovers, I’ll do whatever it takes,” I assured the witch, although my eyes found their way to Leah. Her gaze remained staunchly on her daughter. Although gathering by her tense shoulders, my words had impacted her, just not how I wanted them to.

Just then, a knock sounded on the door. Clenching my fists to ward off the tightening in my throat, I quickly went to answer it.

Roman’s tall, wide frame filled the doorway. The Blood Moon Alpha’s face was serious as he asked anxiously, “Did it work?”

An ugly surge of jealousy ran through me, and my wolf surfaced, wanting to fight this man for the second time tonight. My feelings for Leah and this strange connection to Lina since infusing her with my wolf’s spirit had turned my emotions into a whirlpool.

“It did,” I said gruffly. “Come in,” I managed, holding the door open for Roman.

The Alpha stooped down beside Leah and Lina, his somber expression suddenly alight with warmth at his daughter’s brightened cheeks.

Pain tore through me as I acknowledged that the baby in Leah’s arms belonged to Roman, not me. Seeing them like this—the three of them—so perfectly positioned as a family unit undid me in a way I hadn’t experienced until now.

My wolf, perhaps because it had been called to the surface so recently for the infusion, now prowled just beneath my skin, growling and rumbling. He wanted to assert his dominance, to reclaim his mate. I felt his overwhelming roar now. It took every ounce of willpower to remain by my post at the door. I clenched my palms into fists behind my back, clenching and releasing them to try to ease the strain firing through me. I swore, though, that I wouldn’t cause Leah any more pain.

Finally, Leah and her family and the witch passed through the door. I clicked the door shut. Silence washed over me. The room felt empty as the absence of Leah and her daughter clawed at my insides. The echo of their presence, the soft fragrance of wool, wildflowers, and baby powder, seemed to imprint itself on my heart. I inhaled deeply, trying to recapture the hope that our victory over the illness had conjured. But, just like them, it was gone, replaced with the stark truth that Leah belonged to Roman now.