Chapter 198
Her voice floated through my mind like smoke drifting through moonlight.
“Peace,” Prisca whispered, her voice soft and calm for once. “He’s found peace, Ayla. And love. You’ve given him that.”
I turned in the dark, in the dream, though there were no walls—just a shimmer of blue light. I saw her. Prisca.
She looked like me. Not identical, but close. We shared the same curve of cheek, the same wild hair that caught moonlight like a net. She looked younger now. Happier. There was no blood on her this time. No fire. Just calm.
“And the twins,” she said, smiling with something I couldn’t name. “They’re safe now. He’s accepted it. He’s accepted them.”
I felt tears in my dream. I didn’t even know I was crying.
“Prisca,” I whispered, stepping toward her. “Is it over then? Is that why you're here?”
She shook her head. Slowly. Regretfully.
“There’s still danger. The threat has always been there, lurking, waiting for the right moment. And now it sees an opportunity.”
“What threat?” I asked, heart pounding. “You have to tell me.”
She moved closer. Her voice grew colder—prophetic.
“There is a pack that must fall… for the others to rise. The weak do not climb unless the strong are buried beneath them.”
I frowned. “What does that mean?”
She looked past me, like seeing something I couldn’t.
“For the weak to rise… the strong must fall.”
Then everything turned white. And I fell—
—
I woke up gasping.
My heart hammered against my ribs like it wanted to escape. My skin was slick with sweat, my throat dry. I blinked into the dim light of our bedroom. The curtains fluttered gently, stirred by the wind. Outside, the moon hung low, like it had witnessed my dream and offered no comfort.
Beside me, Jake stirred. His arm reached out on instinct, wrapping around my waist, pulling me back to him.
“Shh,” he murmured against my neck. “You’re safe. Whatever it was… it’s gone.”
But it wasn’t gone. Prisca’s words clung to me like cobwebs. For the weak to rise, the strong must fall.
Jake’s pack.
Her warning wasn’t vague anymore. It was pointed. Intentional.
I stared into the dark, my eyes wide, trying to cling to her voice—anything more. A name. A direction. Something. But the dream faded fast, like always.
I wanted to wake Jake. Shake him. Tell him everything right now. But I hesitated.
Last time I mentioned Prisca… it hadn’t gone well. He’d grown cold, angry even. Told me to stop chasing ghosts. I couldn’t handle that again—not when I’d just heard her.
So I lay still in his arms, feeling the slow, steady thud of his heart against my back, and whispered, “Tomorrow. I’ll tell him tomorrow.”
—
The sun rose fast, golden light painting the walls of the packhouse. But I didn’t taste the usual peace of morning. My stomach twisted as I walked the hallway to Jake’s office.
His Beta Chris was already there, standing straight and serious. Sophie sat near the fireplace, her hands wrapped around a mug. Fatima stood by the window, arms folded, frowning thoughtfully.
Jake looked up when I walked in. His eyes met mine. Something in them softened.
“I need to talk to all of you,” I said.
He gestured for me to sit, but I stayed standing. My fingers laced together tightly.
“I had another dream last night,” I said. “Prisca came to me again.”
Chris tensed. Sophie glanced at Jake quickly. Fatima nodded, as if she had expected it.
Jake didn’t speak. Just watched.
I exhaled slowly. “She said the twins are safe. That he’s found peace. She… she seemed happy.”
“And the rest?” Fatima asked gently.
I turned to Jake.
“She said there’s still danger,” I said. “That for the weak to rise, the strong must fall.”
The room went still.
“She said there’s a pack that wants to rise. And the only way is if the strongest pack falls.” I looked at Jake. “She meant your pack.”
Sophie looked stunned. Chris’s brows furrowed, eyes flicking to Jake like he was bracing for an explosion. But Jake just… breathed.
His eyes lowered to the desk, fingers tapping once, twice.
“Those words,” he said quietly, “aren’t just a warning.”
Fatima tilted her head. “You’ve heard them before?”
Jake stood slowly, moving to the window, sunlight cutting across his broad shoulders.
“They were spoken to me by someone I once called a friend,” he said. “Alpha Arnold. Leader of the Bloodhounds pack.”
Chris’s jaw clenched. “Him? I thought he’d gone quiet.”
“He did,” Jake muttered. “After most of his people left him. They came to us. For safety. For stability. Arnold couldn’t handle it. He said I was growing too powerful. That I was throwing the balance off. Said eventually, the strong would fall so others could climb.”
“Arnold’s pack has been weak for years,” Chris added. “He never adapted. When rogues came, he hid. When the vampire raids swept through the valley, he closed his gates and left others to fend for themselves.”
“So his pack scattered,” Sophie said softly.
Jake nodded. “Many of his warriors joined ours. Some even took mates here. I thought he’d given up.”
Fatima spoke then, her voice low. “Weak men don’t give up. They fester. He probably saw your growth as a threat to his existence. A reason to act.”
“He’s a coward,” Jake said. “But a desperate one. That makes him dangerous.”
I took a step toward him. “So what do we do?”
Jake’s gaze locked on mine. Then he crossed the room in three long strides and gently took my hand.
He raised it to his lips, kissed it softly. “Thank you for telling me, even when you were afraid to.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
Chris looked like he was trying to keep his jaw off the floor. Sophie blinked in surprise. Fatima just smiled.
Jake turned to them. “I’ve been calm long enough. If Arnold wants to bring down my pack to lift his own, then I’ll give him what he’s asking for.”
His voice grew sharp, commanding.
“Double the border patrols. Send word to the Northern alliance—see if they’ve had any signs of Bloodhounds near their territory. Chris, I want you to personally vet the newest warriors. No one joins without background checks now.”
Chris nodded sharply. “On it.”
Jake’s eyes darkened. “Arnold wants the strong to fall? He’s going to find out what real strength looks like.”
Then he looked back at me.
“And you,” he said, pulling me gently into his arms. “You listen to those dreams. I don't care if they come from ghosts, gods, or the moon herself. If it helps us protect our people… I believe you.”
I rested my head on his chest, breathing in his scent, letting the thrum of his heart ground me.
We weren’t alone in this war. Not anymore.
And Arnold? He would regret ever thinking Jake would fall.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
