Life with Farah was… great. I repeated the words like a mantra, forcing them to settle in my mind, to silence the insistent whispers of my wolf. It was okay. It was fine.!!
Farah carried my pup, a tangible promise of a future I was building, a future I should want. I rubbed at the persistent ache between my brows, the one that had become a constant companion since Ivy left. I was convincing myself, or trying to, that I was fine. More than fine. I was better without by
The pack house, once bustling with the subtle hum of lvy’s presence, now felt hollow Farah’s giggles, her high–pitched demands, echuala through the halls, a brittle sound that never quite filled the void. I found myself staring at the empty spaces where Ivy used to be the wom armchair by the hearth where she’d read pack histories, the sun–drenched window seat where she’d meticulously sort hotbs for Infirmary. Even the scent of the pack house had changed, growing cloyingly sweet with Farah’s floral perfumes, eclipsing the earth comforting scent that had once permeated every comer.
My wolf, usually a roaring inferno of strength, felt like a caged animal, pacing restlessly, a low, guttural growl rumbling deep in his chic whenever I tried to settle, whenever I tried to forget!
Then came the elders. They arrived in my office like a flock of ravens, their faces etched with a familiar blend of concem and calouin advice. Elder Silas, his eyes wise and weary, spoke first. “Alpha Ethan,” his voice was gentle, yet firm, it is not good to keep the Lula position empty. A pack, truly powerful, thrives with both an Alpha and his Luna.”
I grunted, leaning back in my chair, feigning nonchalance. “I am aware, Elder. I have matters under control.”
Another elder, old and with a perpetually furrowed brow, cleared his throat. “And with Farah carrying your child, Alpha, it would be wise A logical step. To make her Luna now. It would solidify the pack’s future, quell any rumors. “X
My jaw tightened, Rumors. They always worried about rumors. The whispers of Ivy’s sudden, quiet departure, the whispers of my own foolishness. I dismissed them, my voice sharper than I intended. “I appreciate your counsel, Elders. But my decisions regarding my Luna, or lack thereof, are mine alone.”
They bowed, their expressions unreadable, and left. But their words lingered, heavy in the air. Not good to keep the Luna position empty. The void gnawed at me. The pack felt… restless.
I clenched my fists. It wasn’t about missing her. It was about the pack. The pack needed a Luna. And Farah Farah was carrying my pup It was the logical step, wasn’t it? But then why did the thought feel like lead in my stomach?
I called for my Beta, Gray. He appeared in the doorway, a solid, dependable presence, his eyes holding a silent question I chose to ignore. “Gray,” I began, forcing my voice to be even, devoid of the tremor I felt deep within. “I need you to deploy a few discreet scouting teams. North, east, south, west. Look for… for Ivy,
Gray’s expression didn‘: change, but his wolf’s scent, a sharp tang of surprise, reached me. He merely nodded. “Alpha. Any specifics?”
“No specifics,” I clipped, turning away to stare out the window, at the sweeping expanse of our territory. “Just confirm she’s alive. That’s
I convinced myself, deep inside, that it was purely a matter of pack security. I just needed to ensure she hadn’t met some ill fate. Rogues were always a threat. She was no longer under my protection. It was my duty as Alpha to ensure she hadn’t become a casualty of the wild. That was it. Nothing more
The days that followed were a torment of anticipation and growing frustration. Gray’s reports were grim. No trace. No scent. It was as if Ivy had simply vanished into thin air, leaving behind only an echoing silence where her vibrant presence, once resided. My frustration mounted, morphing into a low, simmering anger. Where was she? Why was she so adept at disappearing? Was she deliberately trying to erase herself from my life? From our lives?
I snapped at omegas, growled at warriors who dared to meet my gaze for too long. Farah, sensing my growing imitability, became more clingy, more demanding, her sweetness curdling into a desperate need for my attention
It was suffocating. Every breath I took felt like a forced effort.!!
I was pacing my office late one evening, the moon high and full, casting long, distorted shadows on the wall. The silence of the pack house was unnerving, broken only by the frantic beat of my own heart. I ran a hand through my hair, a desperate attempt to dislodge the thoughts of Ivy that clung to me like burrs.!
Suddenly, a piercing shriek ripped through the quiet.
“Ah! Alpha
It was Farah, Her voice, usually light and high pitched, was raw with terror. My wolf, instantly alert, roared to life within me.
My instincts, finely honed from years of Alpha training, took over. I moved. Foster than I thought possible, my feet hitting the polished wood floors with a frantic rhythm. The scent of fear, sharp and acrid, filled my nostrils, mingling with Farah’s sweet scent, now tinged with something else–something wrong.
I burst into our bedroom, the scent of fear thick and overwhelming. Farah was on the floor, curled into a tight ball, her hands clutched over her swollen belly. Her face was pale, contorted in agony, and a thin sheen of sweat covered her skin.!!
“Farah!” My voice was a guttural command, filled with a primal concem I hadn’t realized I possessed for her. I dropped to my knees beside her, my hands hovering, unsure how to help. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
She whimpered, her eyes wide and terrified. The baby… something’s wrong! it hurts, Ethan, it hurts!”
Fear, cold and sharp, pierced through the frustration and anger that had consumed me. This was real. This was my pup. My child.
DA PM c
house was unnerving, broken only by the frantic beat of my own heart. I ran a hand through my hair, a desperate attempt to dislodge the thoughts of lvy that clung to me like burrs.
Suddenly, a piercing shriek ripped through the quiet.
“Ahl Alphal’8
It was Farah. Her voice, usually light and high–pitched, was raw with terror. My wolf, instantly alert, roared to life within me
My instincts, finely honed from years of Alpha training, took over. I moved. Faster than I thought possible, my feet hitting the palisty wood floors with a frantic rhythm. The scent of fear, sharp and acrid, filled my nostrils, mingling with Farah’s sweet scent, now tinged something else–something wrong.
I burst into our bedroom, the scent of fear thick and overwhelming. Farah was on the floor, curled into a tight ball, her hands clutched her swollen belly. Her face was pale, contorted in agony, and a thin sheen of sweat covered her skin.
“Farah!” My voice was a guttural command, filled with a primal concern I hadn’t realized I possessed for her. I dropped to my kn beside her, my hands hovering, unsure how to help. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
She whimpered, her eyes wide and terrified. “The baby… something’s wrong! It hurts, Ethan, it hurts!”
Fear, cold and sharp, pierced through the frustration and anger that had consumed me. This was real. This was my pup. My child.
“Healer!” I roared, my voice shaking the very foundations of the pack house. “Get a healer! Now!”
I gathered Farah into my arms, gently, carefully, trying not to jostle her. Her small body trembled against mine, her cries echoing in the suddenly too–quiet room.
As I held her, rocking her gently, a fierce, protective instinct surged through me. This was my responsibility.
I would focus on Farah, I had to. The fear, the immediate, overwhelming need to protect her and my pup, pushed all thoughts of Ivy from my mind. Or so I told myself.
I had to.
I wouldn’t think of lvy anymore.
