Chapter 164
LUCY
The morning sun filtered softly through the curtains as I swayed back and forth in the nursery, cradling Astrid against my chest. Her tiny fingers were wrapped tightly around the edge of my shirt, her warm breath tickling my skin as she drifted back to sleep after her early bottle. This moment—just me and her—was one I’d grown to cherish more than anything else in the world. The way her little heart beat against mine was a grounding rhythm in the madness of our world.
The house was quiet, the kind of quiet that whispered danger rather than peace. I listened closer—beyond the rustling trees outside and the faint creaking of wood—something was off. And then I heard it. Voices. Loud ones. Agitated. Not the usual low murmurs of pack members going about their day. No, this was different. Urgent. Almost heated.
I carefully laid Astrid in her crib, her soft sigh escaping her lips as she curled toward the blanket. I brushed her dark curls from her forehead and kissed her gently before pulling the baby monitor closer. "Fatima!" I called softly.
She appeared within seconds. Always alert, always dependable. "Yes, Luna?"
"Can you keep an eye on her? I think something’s happening outside."
Fatima nodded, already walking over to Astrid. "Go. I’ve got her."
I didn’t waste time. I grabbed my hoodie off the chair and padded quietly into the hallway, following the noise that was growing louder as I approached the main hall. The air was thick with tension, voices bouncing off the walls like a coming storm. I could make out snippets—names, disbelief, the low growl of wolves barely holding their temper.
I turned the corner and froze.
Iris.
I knew that back even before she turned around—the proud shoulders, the sleek hair pulled into a no-nonsense braid. But it wasn’t just her. She was standing beside a tall man with broad shoulders and a quiet authority about him. His eyes scanned the room like he owned it, like every person in it owed him something. I didn’t recognize him, but his presence? Unmistakably Alpha.
“Iris?” I whispered.
She turned to me, and for a second, something in her face softened. There was no smugness, no tension—only surprise and then something else. Relief?
“Lucy,” she said.
The room fell silent, all eyes on us.
Before I could speak again, she gestured to the man beside her and said, “We were on our way to speak with Alexander. This isn’t... a confrontation.”
“Doesn’t look like a casual visit either,” I muttered under my breath.
But curiosity got the better of me, and I followed as they made their way to the conference room at the end of the hall. I could feel the entire pack shifting around us, whispers already beginning to take root.
Inside the room, Alexander was already waiting.
God, he looked like he was carved from steel. His expression was unreadable, arms folded across his chest, the dark V of his shirt showing a hint of muscle beneath his jacket. Eyes like molten gold flicked to mine for a brief second, then returned to Iris and her companion.
I slid into the seat beside him, the warmth of his body grounding me.
Iris took a breath. “First, I want to apologize. For how things ended. For everything. But I come with more than just words.”
Alexander gave a small nod. “Then speak.”
Iris turned to the man beside her. “This is Roman. Alpha Roman.”
He nodded respectfully to the room. “I’m not here to step on anyone’s territory. I’m here because I need your help.”
That caught everyone’s attention.
“And because…” Iris added slowly, eyes darting to me, then back to Alexander, “he’s my mate.”
You could have heard a pin drop.
I blinked. My lips parted to say something—anything—but I found I wasn’t angry. Not even a little. Somehow, I was genuinely… happy for her.
“Iris,” I said finally, “you look different.”
Her face relaxed into something resembling a smile. “I feel different.”
Alexander didn’t react, didn’t so much as blink. But I saw the way his jaw tightened just slightly, like he was trying to gauge if any of this was a trap. Roman stood tall, unfazed by the tension in the room.
“We’ve encountered something,” Roman began. “Creatures. Not just rogue wolves or vampires. These are… other. They don’t bleed like us. They don’t die like us. My warriors call them *bad banshees*—twisted things that scream before they kill. We’ve lost a dozen of our own.”
My stomach twisted.
Bad banshees.
The very name felt like poison on the tongue.
“Iris remembered something,” Roman continued, “from her time here. Said your pack had dealt with something like them before.”
Alexander was silent. Thoughtful. His fingers tapped slowly against the polished wood table.
“We thought we got rid of them,” I said quietly, my heart beginning to pound. “But maybe… maybe not all of them.”
Roman looked at me, something like gratitude flickering in his eyes. “Then you know how serious this is.”
“I do,” I replied.
Everyone looked to Alexander. He hadn’t spoken in a while. His silence was heavier than words. When he finally did speak, his voice was low but firm.
“If they’re not dealt with, they’ll come for all of us. These things don’t stop. They spread.”
Roman nodded once, sharply. “Then will you help us?”
Alexander leaned back in his chair, arms still crossed, his eyes narrowing.
“Describe what they look like,” he said.
Roman looked to Iris.
She spoke. “They have hollowed eyes, like something sucked the soul right out of them. Their mouths are always open, even when they’re not screaming. And their limbs—they move too fast, in angles that don’t make sense. When they come… you hear them scream long before you see them.”
I felt the air leave my lungs.
That scream—I remembered it. I’d only heard it once, during the last encounter, but it had haunted me for weeks. The kind of sound that gets into your bones.
“We’ll help,” Alexander finally said, his voice cutting through the silence. “But I’ll lead the plan. My warriors, my rules.”
Roman didn’t hesitate. “Agreed.”
I looked around the room. Warriors were already nodding. The air buzzed with readiness. But beneath it, I sensed something else. Fear. Not just of the creatures—but of what this might mean.
If these things had survived…
What else had?
I reached for Alexander’s hand under the table. He didn’t flinch, didn’t even look at me, but his fingers brushed mine in a brief, grounding touch.
As the meeting ended and plans began to form, I glanced one last time at Iris. She looked stronger now—like a version of herself she’d always tried to be.
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