Running, With Alpha's Baby Bump

The forest was alive with whispers that night.

Branches clawed at my arms as I pushed through the underbrush, lungs burning with the effort of running while my belly pulled heavy beneath my cloak. Five months. I was five months into carrying the one secret the Blackmoon Pack could never know.

The Alpha’s heir.

My child.

Kael’s child.

I shouldn’t have let it happen. I’d told myself that a single night could be forgotten, that the fire in his eyes, the rough tenderness of his touch, was nothing more than weakness I’d buried deep. But when his mark had grazed my skin, when his mouth had claimed mine, I had known the truth. We weren’t weakness. We were ruin.

And now ruin grew inside me.

The cold autumn wind cut through the trees, scattering brittle leaves in swirls around my boots. Every sound made me flinch. Every crack of a twig had me clutching my cloak tighter around the small swell of my stomach. The pack’s hunters were out tonight, I could feel them. Kael’s wolves never rested, not when a command from their Alpha drove them. If they caught me here, so close to the borders, no lie would save me.

Keep moving, Aria. My sister’s voice was sharp at my back. Mira, barely twenty and stubborn as flame, darted through the shadows with her hair flying. She carried the pack we’d prepared, the one with the herbs, food, and coins we’d scraped together. She shouldn’t even be here, but Mira had refused to let me go alone.

I am moving, I hissed, though my breath tore at my chest.

You’re not moving fast enough. She shot me a glance, eyes glowing faintly green in the dark. You’re carrying his blood. Do you understand what that means if they catch you?

As if I could ever forget.

The bond between Alpha and heir was a sacred thing. The packs were built on bloodlines, on legacy, on power passed from father to child. If Kael discovered what I carried… he would claim it. He would claim me. And he would never let me go again.

My child would not be born a possession.

I stumbled, pain flashing up my side, and caught myself against the trunk of a tree. Mira was at my side instantly, pressing a hand to my arm. Her gaze dropped to my stomach, softened, then hardened again.

We’re almost there. Liora said she’d meet us by the stone arch.

Liora. The witch who had promised she could hide the aura of my unborn child, cloaking the Alpha’s blood so no wolf could scent it. Without her, every step I took risked exposure. Already, I swore I could feel the bond tugging at me, Kael’s presence lingering in my bones even though I was miles from his territory. It was like he lived inside my veins, his claim branded into my soul.

I hated it. I craved it.

And I couldn’t let it destroy me.

The stone arch loomed ahead at last, half buried in moss and vines, a relic of some older time when witches and wolves had fought side by side. Liora was waiting, her dark curls tumbling over her shoulders, her amber eyes glowing faintly with otherworldly fire.

You’re late, she said, though her tone carried no surprise. And you’ve been followed.

My blood ran cold. What?

Liora lifted a hand, and the shadows shifted. Wolves moved in the distance, two, maybe three, pacing the treeline, their eyes catching faint light like shards of moon. Not Kael, but his hunters.

My heart slammed against my ribs. Instinctively, I wrapped both hands over my stomach.

Liora’s gaze followed the motion, then lingered on my face. You knew this wouldn’t be easy. A child born of an Alpha cannot be hidden by running alone.

That’s why I came to you, I said, my voice breaking. Please. Hide him. Hide her. Whatever it takes.

Liora stepped closer, studying me with the quiet intensity only witches had. For a moment, she seemed to see straight through me, to the fire that had bound me to Kael, to the night that still burned against my skin. Her lips curved into something that was not quite a smile.

You don’t understand what you carry, she murmured. This child isn’t just an heir. There is prophecy in this blood. Unity… or ruin. The packs will bow, or they will burn. It is written.

Prophecy. My knees nearly buckled. I didn’t care about destiny or ruin. I cared about holding my baby in my arms, about seeing those first breaths drawn safely into the night.

I don’t want prophecy, I whispered. I just want them safe.

Liora sighed, then reached for a vial at her belt, filled with thick silver liquid. It shimmered in the moonlight.

This will mask the Alpha’s aura, she said. The hunters won’t scent the child. Not until birth.

My hand trembled as I reached for it. Mira squeezed my shoulder, grounding me.

Liora’s voice sharpened. But listen to me, Aria Vale. The moment this child draws their first cry, no magic will hide what they are. Every wolf in the north will feel it. The Alpha will feel it.

Kael.

His name seared through me like lightning, leaving me hollow and burning all at once. I could see him as if he stood before me, tall, broad, dark as the storm he commanded, steel grey eyes that saw too much. He had touched me once like I was his salvation. He would touch me again like I was his possession.

And he would not forgive what I had done.

I clutched the vial to my chest. Then I’ll have to be gone by then.

The distant wolves howled, a chilling chorus that echoed through the forest. My child shifted beneath my ribs, as if answering the sound. A tremor of fear laced with something else, something primal, shook me to the bone.

The Alpha’s heir.

My heir.

I pressed a hand to my stomach and forced myself to stand taller, even as the howls grew louder, closer.

They will not take you from me, I whispered. Not him. Not the pack. Not even fate.

The wind carried my vow into the night. Somewhere far away, I swore I felt a shiver of response, like Kael himself had heard me.

Like he was already hunting me.