Page 30 of Lycan Prince's Secret Baby

“Lamnas,” I said breathlessly. My stomach swooped—half excitement and half anxiety. “Is that everything we need?”

Lyvia flicked her glossy curtain of long black hair over her shoulder, the sun streaming through the large kitchen window illuminating her golden skin. The fall sunshine was magnified as it bounced off the frozen lake outside, dappling our kitchen and illuminating the beauty of our little bubble of safety.

“Yeah, that’s everything,” Lyvia said. “Lamnas—the bread—is the symbol of nourishment existing between two mates. It has to be fresh. So, it’s best we use it immediately. I could prep everything this afternoon. Do it tonight—if you like?”

My stomach clenched. A knot of anxiety tightened in my chest, too. The prospect of performing the severing ritual, the one designed to cut the mate bond with Kyle, loomed large in my mind. It had been three months since Lina’s birth, but I had been weak after she’d been born, too weak to undergo the ritual. The weeks of captivity early on in my pregnancy, followed by the frantic month on the run, had taken a toll on my health.

Just then, a tall, broad-shouldered man stooped through the low-framed door of the kitchen. “This is the last of the herbal supplies,” Roman announced, setting another box on the table. His very presence radiated warmth like the aga burning behind me.

Once, Roman and I had been betrothed, but our relationship had long morphed into that of siblings when we’d been teenagers. Being reunited with him had been one of my life’s greatest joys, alongside welcoming my daughter into the world. Roman had been my anchor, his steady support a lifeline as I navigated motherhood. He’d held my hand during my labor, and that connection had deepened our relationship into something more profound.

At his side again, along with a dozen of our Blood MoonAnukiandNukaiwho had escaped with him, we lived in freedom. It was a freedom carefully preserved by Lyvia’s enchantments protecting us from the prying eyes of curious humans, Reginald, and the Moonlights. It was Lyvia who had reunited us. She had always known their whereabouts, having aided the Blood Moons in eluding Reginald and the treachery surrounding the Moonlight Pack.

“Thanks,” I said, setting my hands on the table beside the box Roman had just set down. I locked eyes with him, fortifying myself to share the news. “Lyvia’s going to perform the ritual tonight, Roman. It’s time.”

“Nuka, are you sure?” Roman’s voice was laced with concern. The worry etched on his handsome face mirrored the complexity of our shared history. I understood why he might question my readiness. This was a serious undertaking, one that could have a significant toll on my body and mind, both of which had suffered over the last year.

“Anuk, I’m ready. I want this,” I said, my voice firm, determination coursing through me. “I can’t have that bond still existing when we face them.”

Roman’s azure-blue eyes held me. “You know your heart, Leah. Just don’t let fear push you into this.”

Gratitude surged through me as I glanced around at my family. Roman had told me about the treachery surrounding Kyle’s family and how Kyle’s father had framed the Blood Moon wolves as the aggressors. In truth, a Black Moon wolf had killed the Moonlight Luna, and Roman knew that Reginald had arranged the murder in order to give him cause to declare war against ourpack. Reginald had slain the Blood Moon Alpha and his Beta, my father, to remove those who knew the truth. The echo of that loss haunted me. It was a constant reminder of our struggle. Thank the moon goddess, Roman had gotten away.

Just then, Lina started to cry. “I’ve got it,” Lyvia said, swiftly making her way to Lina. The witch had been goddess sent, I swore. Not only had she reunited me with my pack, but she’d become part of our family here. I’d named her Lina’s godmother and felt grateful every day for the bond we shared.

Lyvia scooped Lina up, her soothing voice bringing with it the calm of ancient woods.

“In the shadow of the ancient trees,

Where the moonlight weaves its gentle breeze,

Close your weary eyes, my little one,

The night will guard you ‘til the rise of sun.

My heart swelled and ached all at once. “I want her to grow up there, Roman,” I whispered, thinking of the ancient trees and rushing rivers in our pack’s song—the melodies that filled our spirits—the one Lina already loved so well because something deep within her responded to it.

“But they took it from us—the place that’s shaped us for generations. I can’t allow this bond with Kyle to interfere with our pack’s fight to take our home back. I need to do this. No matter the cost.”

Roman put his arm around me, pulling me to his side, a silent promise that we would weather this storm together. We watchedas Lina settled back into slumber. “That placewillshape her,Nuka. And we’ll grow old there, too, I promise you.”

Over the years, Roman and the other fugitive Blood Moons had been quietly gathering strength, planning to reclaim their territory and avenge themselves on Reginald. Hope surged through me at the idea of returning to our rightful lands. I imagined Lina chasing butterflies in the wildflowers and how I would teach her the names of the herbs, just as my mother had taught me. I pictured her joy as she shifted, tearing through the woodlands, cresting the hills we had once known as young wolves.

The rest of the day slipped by in a whirlwind of activity. We unpacked supplies, and the earthy scents of dried herbs filled the room as I joined Lyvia in grinding various roots in a mortar and pestle, making pastes and tinctures for the ritual.

By afternoon, Lyvia insisted I rest while she made the final preparations. I left her steeping herbs in hot water, the bouquet garnis releasing fragrant tendrils of steam that spiraled through the kitchen. Goosebumps prickled along my arms as I bundled a sleeping Lina into my arms, imagining the steam and scents as a prelude to the magic we would unleash tonight, these ethereal ribbons fraying the bonds tying me to Kyle.

When the late afternoon light spilled through the windows, casting long shadows across my bedroom on the fourth floor, I placed Lina into her crib before laying down for a nap. Disoriented, I woke to a sharp, persistent cry shattering the tranquility.

Lina’s high-pitched wail cutting through my dreamscape had me surging out of bed. I thought she was hungry and cradled heragainst me, but she refused to nurse. Her tiny face scrunched up, and her brow knitted in obvious discomfort. My breath hitched when I touched her skin. She was burning hot, her skin clammy and feverish.

“No, no, sweetheart,” I murmured, panic clawing at my throat, my heart drumming fiercely. I hurried across the room, urgency flooding the air like a thunderstorm. I had to get her to Lyvia.

Suddenly, she went limp, her small body growing heavier in my arms. My heart dropped as fear spiraled into the depths of my being.

“Lina!” I shrieked, a sound desperate and raw scraping from my throat. I thrust myself into motion, hurrying down the hallway, clutching her to me.

“Lyvia!” I yelled, my voice echoing as I rushed down the stairs, the world blurring into a frantic whirl. The cold stone and beams of the walls rushed past me as adrenaline pulsed through me with every footfall. My heart felt like it was imploding as I burst into the kitchen.

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