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

Chapter 24

Leah

At first, I resented Kyle’s presence with every fiber of my being screaming to withdraw from the man who had once shattered my heart. Yet, beneath those deep-set scars, I felt myself acclimatizing to his companionship. After a few weeks of his presence, I admitted to myself that Kyle had become a balm to my worries for Lina’s health.

I worried that more infusions of our wolf spirits would reignite the overwhelming attraction between Kyle and me. However, Lyvia assured us that if we expended some of our primal energy by shifting, it shouldn’t happen again. To that end, and to help nurture Lina’s inner wolf, she advised that we guard her in our wolf forms.

In a whirl of motion, we shifted into our wolf forms, our fur shimmering under the golden sunlight streaming in through the window. Lina’s tiny mouth fell open in wonder as we settled before her, enormous in comparison to her doll-like frame. Her dreamy gaze fixated on us. It felt surreal to shift alongside Kyle, the primal energy of our wolves expressing what words could never capture. My heart raced at the way he growled protectively over Lina, his form exuding a fierce, protective strength that made me swell with pride.

With each passing day, as we invited the forest’s scent and the moonlight into our space, Lina grew more attuned to her wolf. That knowing look, wise beyond her age, etched itself onto her face more frequently. She was growing in strength, too. Where she had once slept most of the time, too weak to even lift herself, she now awakened regularly, filled with curiosity for the world around her—both her eyes and fingers eager to take in her space and those around her.

As Lina grew stronger, her personality began to blossom. She wasn’t just a fragile baby anymore. She was an inquisitive little spirit, filling my bedroom with curious coos and laughter. We soon decided to teach her more about her wolf heritage by play fighting.

Inhabiting our wolves, and with a low, playful growl, Kyle lunged at me, his paws slapping on the floor as he feigned an attack. I responded in kind, rolling onto my back and offering up my belly, inviting him to pounce. The sound of our playful snarls bounced off the walls as we carried on with our game, every growl laced with affection.

Lina’s eyes widened, mirroring the excitement dancing between us. It didn’t take long before she began to mimic our antics, her chubby little fingers curling into tiny fists. With a scrunched-up nose and determined expression, she attempted to let out a “growl,” a sound more like a squeal.

In response, Kyle leaned closer, gently nudging her with his massive muzzle as if to say, “Come on, little warrior!” That gentle encouragement seemed to ignite something in her. Lina let out an adorable snarl, a high-pitched “grawr.”

With each growl and playful snarl from us, Lina’s confidence soared. She scrunched her face, mimicking the ferocity of our growls, her little arms waving as she eyed us with determination. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of joy swell within me. Our daughter was learning, absorbing our play and turning it into her unique expression—the magic of a pup finding her place.

Every day, the room was filled with Lina’s laughter and growls, and I knew these furry interactions were teaching Lina that strength comes not just from fighting but from the warmth of family and love.

Kyle also went to the effort of learning the art of grooming from the pack females. Something he performed in human form and in wolf form for our little family. It was mesmerizing to watch him delicately comb through Lina’s fine, ebony hair with gentle fingers. Her hair, as dark as night, save for a streak of red running down the center one side, was a blend of Moonlight and Blood Moon lineage. Lyvia had explained that when Lina was old enough to shift, her wolf’s fur would carry this streak of red in her gray coat. Kyle’s movements were tender yet intentional. He took such care, his brow furrowed in concentration, trying to ensure that Lina felt cared for in a simple yet intimate way.

Emboldened by Lyvia’s advice that it was important to draw on the strength of our familial bond, I allowed him to brush and plait my hair, too. We shared a soft glance as Lina’s tiny fingers threaded through my hair as if trying to plait my hair like Kyle. This intimacy reminded me of the contentment I used to feel when Mary or my mother had braided my hair. There was something deep and nourishing in the action. The way our smiles and our shared laughter wrapped themselves around us left me breathless.

In wolf form, we mimicked our grooming. With our mouths and teeth, Kyle and I taught Lina techniques in shifter form. I found myself pressed against Kyle more often than I intended, warmth radiating between us as I cherished the moments when both Kyle and my wolf watched over Lina, our presence enveloping her in warmth and safety. It felt as if we had stepped into Lina’s dreamscape, our reality blending with the vibrant imagination she’d shared with us.

To be part of the grooming activities, Lina’s little hands tugged and pulled at both of our coats, our whines teaching her to be gentler until she’d learned to stroke us soothingly. The longer I inhabited this space with the three of us, the greater my longing became, a gaping yearning I had forgotten existed.

The plan I’d devised—to sever the bond we shared—seemed increasingly impossible. I had built those defenses to protect both my heart and my daughter from potential hurt, but now I grappled with an unexpected demand within myself. Was it weak to desire Kyle, to want him close for reasons beyond Lina’s welfare?

On one particular twilight, as we shifted back from our shared duty of guarding Lina’s slumber, I felt the gravitational pull toward Kyle. Especially as my eyes caught sight of his lean, rippling, muscled back, trim waist, and tight ass. Ever the gentleman, he turned away from me as I gathered my clothes. I retreated to the bathroom to change.

But thoughts of his presence in the room behind heated my cheeks, a rush of warmth that sent my heart racing. I placed my clothes down on the edge of the bath, fighting against the longing that clawed at me. I didn’t bother to turn on the light or shut the door completely, letting the dim evening glow find its way through the sliver of the gap, accompanied by the gentle shimmer of the sikin crystal by the sink.

As I loosed my hair from the confines of the braid Kyle had woven just hours earlier, I could still feel the ghost of his skilled hands imparting that intimate touch. Staring into the mirror, my heart fluttered. “What if we tried again?” My voice trembled as I whispered the thought aloud to myself, filled with the thrill of repressed excitement. My pale cheeks flushed now with the warmth of hope.

As I stood there, I imagined, instead of getting dressed, walking back out to Kyle naked. I imagined the intensity that would undulate through his powerful muscles as I got closer and how his eyes would get that intoxicating look.

Shivers ran down my spine. I remembered the last time we embraced, our mouths colliding in a wave of hunger that left the world around us fading. But the memory of his cold, remote expression after we’d made love, after we’d made Lina, crashed over me, dousing the flames. “Stay away from me,” he’d growled. The memory solidified the temptation clouding my judgment. Like the cleansing herb salum, my thoughts ran clearer.

I dressed with purpose, reminding myself of how these confusing thoughts were largely affected by the changes in my body. The heat cycle still flared around Kyle. Something that, after Lina was healed, I’d finally be rid of when I severed our mate bond.

I wandered back into the living room, peeking out to ensure Kyle was decent. Shadows danced across the room, mixing with the almost entirely faded light. The nights were drawing in quicker as winter rapidly approached.

Lina slept peacefully in her bassinet on my bed while Kyle sat in the window seat, his profile silhouetted against the natural light spilling in. The illumination wasn’t artificial. We had no electricity to waste outdoors, nor was it the shimmering glow of sikin crystals. Outside the window, the Aurora Borealis rippled across the sky in breathtaking greens and blues, illuminating the snow-clad hills beyond with ethereal beauty.

A shaky breath escaped me as my heart quickened. We were lucky here in Alaska to see the Aurora from fall to spring. I thought of all the times Roman and I had stared out at the dazzling lights, but they’d never felt as magical as they did now as I imagined watching them beside Kyle. Nature definitely seemed to be conspiring against me. As the magic wove itself across the sky, I was reminded of the emerald and cerulean light of mine and Kyle’s auras in Lina’s dreamscape. The Aurora looked a lot like our essences playing in the night. The angle of Kyle’s chiseled jaw, the line of his straight nose, and his high brow formed a captivating silhouette, drawing me in with an irresistible pull.

He’d already poured us cups of tea. We had made it a habit to have a cup in the evening after Lina dozed off. Sometimes she woke, and it was helpful to have Kyle beside me, guiding her back into a comfortable slumber. I’d shown him my tea box, carefully labeled and filled with loose flowers and herbs, sharing how I liked to blend three flavors.

As the scents mingled in the air, I wondered if the concentration that he’d shown toward Lina and me as a family would extend to me, too. Had he followed my rule of blending three flavors? Kiva—that spicy memory made my heart flutter, recalling the steaming cup of kiva, fennel, and aniseed I’d brought him once upon a time. But other fragrances joined the kiva—rosemary and verbena. They calmed my turbulent thoughts like waters beneath a retreating storm.

“Have you ever seen kiva growing in the wild?” Kyle’s low voice broke through my reverie, almost a whisper. He was well-practiced at keeping its volume low for Lina.

I shook my head. Kyle’s voice sent goosebumps along my arms, and after picking up the cup of tea on my desk, I took a seat there rather than joining him on the window seat.

“I’ve seen it in Alexis’s lands. Its spiciness fills the air like chili or ginger,” he said.

Alexis was the Shadow Moon Alpha. Kyle had told Roman and me how he’d allied with him. The powerful leader of the land bordering the Moonlight Pack and our Blood Moon lands had promised his support in the fight against Reginald.

“I’ve heard that the Shadow Moons worship the moon goddess for her secrecy,” I whispered. “They like to harvest their herbs under a new moon—the darkness of the moon gives them potency for crafting spells of concealment. Lyvia used herbs from their lands on the enchantments here when we first arrived.”

Kyle nodded. “Secrecy and stealth are some of their most prized attributes. Their lands also reflect this—hidden valleys and towering cliffs. They’re a lot like this valley here.”

I’d learned from the warriors in my pack who frequented the cavern often, that Kyle said a lot of his moves were learned from Alexis and his people. It was likely true, but I knew he was being humble, too. Kyle had always been a dedicated warrior. Even when I’d first laid eyes on him, over a year ago, that’d been clear.

“She was even livelier today, I thought,” Kyle said, the fondness in his voice igniting dangerous embers that something more than co-parenting was possible.

“As your fur can attest.” A smile wound over my face.

More than once throughout the day, she’d grabbed clumps of Kyle’s fur.

“Totally worth it.” He laughed. The low, throaty chuckle sent my stomach whirling with a thousand butterflies. In it, I felt the echo of possibility. It was like my most joyful memories had been distilled into that sound: holding Lina in my arms for the first time, being reunited with Roman, and the wholeness I’d felt today as Kyle and Lina’s hands threaded through my hair.

My chest swelled with a sense of belonging. Together, could we build something new and whole?

“Kyle, I—” but the words tangled in my throat. Hope mixed with fear. My heartbeat resounded in my ears like a drumroll, smothering my voice before it could take flight.

Kyle leaned forward as if he wanted to be closer. But he stopped, remaining where he was. I thought of how many times he’d pressed himself in his wolf form against me today, but that was for Lina. It required all of our family’s strength to heal her. And that was alright. But it wouldn’t be required forever.

Kyle’s gaze held mine full of a questioning light.

“I don’t want to complicate things,” I admitted, the vulnerability of my voice making my tone husky. “We both need to focus on Lina, on protecting her.”

“But I want to be there for you, too,” Kyle said fervently. All the closeness that he wanted seemed to funnel into his gaze, making his eyes burn with intensity. Behind him, the Aurora’s mesmerizing light playing across the sky seemed a reflection of Kyle’s aura, the same vibrancy. “I want you to know that you’re just as important to me as Lina is,” he affirmed.

His earnestness struck me, and the sincerity in his eyes pulled at my heartstrings. My initial plan to distance myself seemed to swirl with uncertainty. Was I ready to separate myself from the one person who could understand the depth of my love for Lina?

As we shared that quiet, charged moment gazing at one another, I inhaled deeply, allowing the scent of the kiva, rosemary, and verbena to enter my lungs.

A current shifted and wrapped around us, an undeniable magnetism that ignited the air between us. I sought for anything to pull me out of the potent stream of magic that was my fated mate’s allure.

“Why does life have to be so hard?” I found myself murmuring.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and I worried that he was going to muddy the turbulent feelings by trying to come closer to comfort me. Was he going to claim that it didn’t have to be hard? When I dared to lift my eyes from my cup, a thoughtful look rested on his face. “My mother used to say that Igaluk doesn’t give us any challenge that we can’t overcome.”

For a moment, I wondered if that was true? The moon goddess had presented me with Kyle as my fated mate. During my darkest moments, such as when Lina had gotten ill, I’d wondered whether Igaluk had given me Kyle as a fated mate to challenge me to break the bond from one who had oppressed me and my people. I was sure that Kyle wasn’t suggesting that our bond was nothing but a challenge to overcome. But what if it was?

That rational sense, like salum, filled me. If Igaluk had given me this challenge, Kyle was right. I could overcome it. The thought was just what I needed to get past this feeling of falling apart.

I nodded, steadying myself with that thought and taking a big sip of tea. With each thought about how this was just a challenge that I was in the process of overcoming, my want eased.

“It’s a good blend,” I said, sipping the first cup of tea Kyle had made for me.

“Thanks, I had a good teacher,” he said. Once again, the glimmer of affection that crept into his tone made me ache for more. What would it be like to let these walls around my heart come crashing down and let the comfort and sustenance that Kyle was offering into my life?

Disorientation flared through me, warning me against such tempting thoughts. What if I grew to depend on something, only for it to be ripped away again? No, I promised myself. I wouldn’t get used to this. This was just a cup of tea.

The turmoil within me simmered down to a gentler yearning. When I said goodnight to Kyle, I managed to resist the way I wanted to draw closer and shut the door behind him without any unnecessary contact.

I noticed that the tea box on my writing desk was low on rosemary. I pulled out a muslin bag with herbs. The rosemary was getting old, its vibrancy getting lost. I made a mental note to use it up over the next few days. My lips twitched as I thought of the herb’s meaning: memory.

As I tidied up, tightness seized my throat. Kiva’s spicy scent was often used to symbolize passion. Then, my heart hammered against my ribcage. Verbana’s meaning was love. Staring at the fragrant tea leaves in the two cups on the desk, I felt as if I were gazing at a love letter: memory, passion, and love. But Kyle knew nothing of the meanings behind herbs. This was merely a coincidence, nothing more.

I tossed the used tea leaves in the bin, determined to honor my duty as Lina’s mother first. But once I’d fulfilled that, I would focus on my vow to myself, sever the mate bond with Kyle, and reclaim my future. I’d free myself from the memories of the past, which, like the rosemary, were stale. It was time for a fresh start and to allow possibility and new growth into my life. It was time to move on.