Torn Between Destinies-Chapter 39 - Thirty Nine

The moon was full that night, wide and glowing like a silver lantern hung high above the treetops. It cast a soft, eerie light over the new territory we had claimed as home. The air smelled like pine needles and new beginnings. Everything was still, waiting.

We stood in the meadow again, just beyond the stream. The same one Darius and I had circled on our first morning. But this time, it wasn’t just about us. This night belonged to our daughter.

Erya was bundled in a soft cloth against my chest, her eyes blinking slowly as if the moon itself had lulled her into a dream. Around us, the few wolves who had followed us from Thornridge stood in a circle. Quiet. Watching. Respectful. They understood what this moment meant.

"Are you ready?" Darius asked, his voice a low murmur in my ear.

I nodded. "As I’ll ever be."

We walked together into the center of the circle, and I gently placed Erya on a small, flat stone that had been warmed by the sun earlier that day. A crown of soft herbs and tiny flowers rested on her head, carefully braided by one of the older wolves who believed in tradition. She called it a blessing crown.

I knelt beside Erya and looked up at the sky. The moonlight bathed her in silver. Her little hands waved in the air. Her eyes sparkled.

Darius stepped forward, voice deep and sure. "Tonight, under the witness of the Moon, we present our child to the land. To the stars. To the wolves of old. May she be known. May she be seen. May she be accepted."

A hush settled over us.

My wolf stirred.

Something ancient moved through the trees. I could feel it in my bones—a hum in the air, as if the land itself was holding its breath.

And then Erya lifted her head.

She made a small noise first, a whimper. Then a growl. Then, without warning, she threw her head back and howled.

It wasn’t strong or long, but it was real. A true wolf’s howl. A cry from the soul.

Everyone froze.

Then, from the forest beyond the meadow, a sound rose in response.

A howl. Low, distant, deep.

Another followed. Then another.

The trees echoed with the voices of wolves unseen. Spirits, perhaps. Or wild wolves that had roamed here long before us. Whatever they were, they had answered her.

Erya’s howl faded into a soft sigh as she blinked again and smiled up at the sky.

Darius stepped beside me, eyes wide. "Did you feel that?"

I nodded slowly, heart pounding.

Yes. I had felt it. Not just the howl. But the shift in the air.

The land had heard her.

Had acknowledged her.

And us.

But there was something else too. A tremble beneath the awe. A whisper in the wind.

A warning.

I couldn’t explain it, but my wolf bristled inside me. Something ancient had stirred tonight. And it wasn’t just kindness that moved with it.

Still, the moment was sacred.

The other wolves joined in now, lifting their voices in song. Darius howled beside me. I did too, holding Erya close again.

We howled for her. For her strength. Her gift. Her place among us.

When the last note faded, silence fell.

Then came the rustle of leaves.

A breeze moved across the meadow, soft and cold. It touched my face like fingers. Gentle. Yet not entirely warm.

I looked down at Erya. Her eyes had closed again, and her tiny chest rose and fell in rhythm with the earth.

"She’s special," I whispered.

Darius nodded. "I know."

We stood there for a long time, watching the stars, holding our daughter, and wondering just what kind of future she would lead us into.

---

The wind felt different as we crossed into familiar territory. It wasn’t the cold bite of danger or the wild whisper of new beginnings. It was something quieter—like the sigh of a home you never stopped loving, even when it hurt you. Darius walked beside me, Erya snug on his back wrapped in a light woolen sling. I could feel her tiny heartbeat through the bond, soft and steady. She was asleep, but even in rest, she pulsed with a quiet strength. Our daughter.

The trees parted like old friends welcoming us back. Thornridge hadn’t changed much, yet everything felt altered because we had changed. Our feet crunched over the well-worn trail leading to the pack settlement. A few younger wolves were training in the distance. They stopped when they noticed us, their eyes widening.

"Alpha," one of them whispered.

I smiled faintly. I wasn’t their Alpha anymore. But the way they looked at Darius—and then at me—said something else. Reverence. Respect. Maybe curiosity too.

Word spread quickly.

Before we even reached the main hall, a crowd had gathered. Familiar faces, some grinning and some tearful. Darius clasped hands with his old Beta, Rael, who had been loyal till the end. Others followed, crowding him, asking questions.

I hung back. It felt surreal. Like I was watching someone else’s reunion.

Then I saw her.

Mayla.

She pushed through the pack and ran toward me, her hair a wind-tossed mess and her cheeks flushed with emotion. "Luciana!" she called out.

We collided in a tight hug. I hadn’t realized how much I missed her until I felt her arms around me.

"You look tired," she said, pulling back and eyeing me up and down. "But happy. And you brought the little wolf."

I turned slightly so she could see Erya.

Mayla’s eyes softened. "She’s beautiful."

I smiled. "She howled last night. The forest answered."

Mayla blinked. "The forest?"

"It was like it knew her. Like it knew us."

Mayla hesitated. Then she pulled me to the side, away from the chattering wolves. "Luciana, I need to tell you something."

The tone in her voice made my spine stiffen. I followed her quietly until we reached the old garden behind the healer’s hut. It was overgrown now, wild with herbs and tangled flowers.

"I’ve been having dreams," she said.

I narrowed my eyes. "Mayla, dreams aren’t new. You’ve always had them."

"No. These are different."

She stepped closer, her voice dropping. "In every dream, there’s a land. Not ours. Not Thornridge. It’s darker. Broken. And every time I step into it, I see wolves chained to stone, their eyes empty. And I hear a child crying."

My hand instinctively moved to my chest.

"And then a voice whispers something over and over," she continued. "It says, ’Blood of the beginning, beware the rootless howl.’"

I frowned. "What does that even mean?"

"I don’t know. But you left. You found a new place. And now Erya is born. And the forest answered her. That’s never happened before, Luciana. Something’s... waking. And I think your child is tied to it."

I looked away. The wind rustled the leaves behind us.

"I came here to see family again," I whispered. "Not more warnings."

"I know. But you need to be careful. She isn’t just a child. And neither are you."

Before I could reply, footsteps approached. I turned to find Adah standing there.

Her presence was like a cold wind slicing through warm sunlight. Her eyes locked on mine, unreadable as always. She didn’t smile.

"You came back," she said flatly.

"Only for a visit," I replied, my voice calm.

Adah glanced at Erya, then at Darius in the distance. He was still speaking with the pack elders.

"She has your eyes," she said.

I didn’t answer.

Mayla stiffened beside me. She and Adah never got along, but this tension was different. Older. Heavier.

"Did you come to stir up old roots? Or plant new ones here?" Adah asked.

"Neither. Just to show our daughter where she came from."

Adah stepped closer. "You think you’re done with us. But stories don’t end just because you leave the village. And Darius..." she paused. "He still has scars that bear your name."

I met her gaze. "So do I."

We stared at each other. I refused to flinch.

Adah finally looked away. "Be careful in that new land of yours. Peace doesn’t last. Not when fate circles your family like a hawk."

She turned and walked off.

Mayla exhaled loudly. "That wolf is still wrapped in her bitterness."

I swallowed hard. "Or she sees things we’re trying to ignore."

That night, we stayed in one of the old guest dens. Darius and I lay on the familiar bed, Erya nestled between us.

"You saw Adah?" he asked.

"Yes."

He didn’t ask more. Instead, he turned to me. "How did it feel... coming back?"

I thought for a moment. "Like remembering a dream you were trying to forget."

He nodded. "They still look to us. Even now."

"We can’t lead what we no longer understand."

He reached out and took my hand. "I’m glad we left."

"Me too."

Erya stirred in her sleep. A small whimper. I placed my hand over her back, calming her.

"Mayla had dreams again," I said after a long silence. "She thinks Erya is connected to something... bigger."

He frowned. "She’s a child."

"She’s our child," I corrected. "And she was born under a howl that made the trees bend."

Darius pulled me closer. "Whatever comes, we’ll face it. Together."

In the distance, a single wolf howled. Then another. One by one, the pack added their voices to the night. I listened, my heart full of memory and uncertainty.

The past was behind us. But the shadows we walked through hadn’t vanished. ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

They had only learned to wait.

And watch.