# CHAPTER 36: THE FIRST KICK
The mansion is too quiet.
Alana lies in bed. Staring at the ceiling. Hand resting on her belly. Still flat. Still empty-looking. But she knows better.
*Three weeks. Maybe four. Since the transfer.*
The doctors said it would take time. That she might not feel anything for months. That the embryo—*their embryo*—was barely the size of a poppy seed.
But she waits anyway.
*Come on. Give me something.*
Vivian is asleep in the adjoining room. Exhausted from the drive. From the stress. From everything. She'd muttered something about "werewolf bullshit" before collapsing onto the guest bed.
Alana had almost laughed.
*Werewolf bullshit. Our life now.*
Alexander is somewhere in the mansion. A meeting. Pack business. She doesn't know the details. He'd kissed her forehead before leaving, promised to return soon.
*Soon. Everything is soon. Waiting. Always waiting.*
She closes her eyes. Tries to sleep. But her mind won't stop.
The test. Positive. Two lines. So small. So significant.
The gift. A baby blanket. A knife through it. Marcus's signature.
The move. Boxes packed. Her apartment—her sanctuary—left behind. For this. A mansion in the mountains. Surrounded by wolves. By danger. By him.
*Alexander. Always Alexander.*
She touches the mating mark on her neck. Faded. Almost invisible. But she feels it. A warmth under her skin. A connection she can't explain.
*The bond. Growing stronger every day.*
---
She's almost asleep when it happens.
A flutter.
Soft. Barely there. Like a butterfly. Or a whisper. Or nothing at all.
Her eyes snap open.
*What—*
There. Again. A tiny movement. Deep inside.
*No. I'm imagining it. It's too early.*
She holds her breath. Waits.
Nothing.
*See. Nothing. Just—*
Then—kick.
Hard. Definite. Undeniable.
Alana gasps. Sits up. Hands pressed to her abdomen.
"Oh my god."
She waits. Hoping. Praying.
And there it is. Again. Stronger this time. A tiny foot. Or fist. Or elbow. Pushing against her from the inside.
*Tears. Why am I crying?*
She reaches for her phone. Dials Alexander's number.
He answers on the first ring.
"What's wrong? Are you okay? Is it—"
"Come here. Now."
"Alana, what—"
"Just come."
She hangs up. Can't explain. Not over the phone. Needs him here. Now.
---
Two minutes. That's all it takes.
The door flies open. Alexander stands there. Breathing hard. Eyes wild. Scared.
"What happened? Are you bleeding? Is the baby—"
"Shut up." Alana grabs his hand. Pulls him to the bed. "Sit."
He sits. Rigid. Terrified.
"Lie down with me."
He does. Slowly. Carefully. Like she's made of glass.
She takes his hand. Places it on her belly. Over the spot. Where she felt it.
"Wait."
"Alana, I don't understand—"
"Shh. Just wait."
Silence. The clock ticks. A bird sings outside the window.
Alexander's face falls.
"Maybe you imagined—"
Then—kick.
His hand jerks.
"Did you—"
Another kick.
His eyes widen. Fill with tears.
"That's..."
"Our baby."
---
He doesn't speak.
Just lies there. Hand on her belly. Tears streaming down his face.
Alana watches him. This man. This Alpha. This monster who kills without hesitation. This boy who lost his father. This husband who lost a child and came back for her.
*Alexander. Mine.*
"I didn't think..." His voice breaks. "After the first baby... I didn't think I'd ever feel this again."
*The first baby. Ethan. We never named him. Not out loud. But in my head... he was always Ethan.*
"We did it." She whispers. "We made it this far."
He nods. Can't speak.
The baby kicks again. Alexander laughs. Wet. Broken. Beautiful.
"Strong. Already so strong."
"Like father."
He looks at her. Golden eyes. Shining.
"Like mother."
---
They lie there. For minutes. Or hours. Time doesn't matter.
Alana feels every movement. Every flutter. Every kick. And Alexander feels it too. Through his palm. Through the bond.
*The bond. Connecting us. All three of us.*
"She's going to be fierce." Alexander murmurs.
"She?"
He shrugs. "I don't know why. It feels like a girl."
*Girl. A daughter. I never let myself imagine.*
"What would you name her?"
Alexander is quiet. Thinking.
"Hope."
*Hope. After everything. After loss. After pain.*
"Hope." Alana repeats. "I love it."
He kisses her forehead. Her nose. Her lips.
"Thank you." He whispers against her mouth. "For this. For her. For everything."
She doesn't answer. Just pulls him closer.
---
A knock.
Sharp. Urgent.
Alana sighs. Alexander tenses.
"What?"
The door opens. Derek stands there. Face pale. Jaw tight.
"Marcus is here."
Alexander goes rigid.
"What?"
"He arrived ten minutes ago. Demanded to see you. Both of you."
*Marcus. Of course. We can't have one moment of peace.*
Alexander sits up. His face hardens. The tears are gone. Replaced by something cold. Dangerous.
"I'll handle this."
"No." Alana grabs his arm. "I'm coming with you."
"Alana, you shouldn't—"
"Shouldn't what? Be there when he threatens our family? Again?" She stands. "I'm done hiding from him."
*Derek looks at her with something like admiration. And worry.*
"Luna, he's... in a mood."
*In a mood. Code for dangerous.*
"Then let's not keep him waiting."
---
The walk to the formal parlor feels like a march to war.
Alexander on one side. Derek on the other. Alana between them.
*Protected. Always protected.*
But she doesn't feel protected. She feels trapped. Angry. And something else—something new.
*The wolf. Stirring.*
She feels it under her skin. A presence. A power. Waiting.
*Not yet. But soon.*
They reach the parlor doors. Two Gamma guards stand outside.
"He's armed?" Alexander asks.
"No weapons visible. But..."
*But he's Marcus. Weapon enough.*
Alexander nods. Pushes open the doors.
---
The parlor is cold.
Fireplace unlit. Curtains drawn. A single lamp casting shadows.
And there, in the center, sits Marcus Pierce.
Silver hair. Perfect suit. Cold blue eyes. A glass of whiskey in his hand. Like he owns the place.
*He doesn't. Not anymore.*
"Alexander." Marcus smiles. "And the lovely Alana. Please, sit."
Neither of them move.
"What do you want?" Alexander's voice is ice.
Marcus sighs. Dramatic. False.
"Is that how you greet your father?"
"You're not my father."
The words hang. Heavy. Dangerous.
Marcus's smile doesn't waver.
"Semantics. Now please. Sit. We have much to discuss."
*We have nothing to discuss.*
Alana steps forward.
"If you have something to say, say it. Then leave."
Marcus looks at her. Really looks. His eyes travel down. Stop at her abdomen.
*He knows. Of course he knows.*
"Ah. The baby." He raises his glass. "Congratulations are in order, I hear."
*Don't touch your belly. Don't give him the satisfaction.*
"What do you want, Marcus?"
He sets down the glass. Stands. Walks toward them.
"Actually, I came to give you something."
He reaches into his jacket. Alexander tenses. Derek shifts.
But Marcus only pulls out an envelope. Extends it toward Alana.
*What—*
She takes it. Opens it.
Inside: a photograph.
Old. Faded. A woman. Dark hair. Grey eyes. Beautiful. Familiar.
*My mother.*
Alana's heart stops.
"Where did you get this?"
Marcus smiles. Serpent-smooth.
"I knew her. A long time ago."
*Liar. Monster. What are you playing at?*
"You're lying."
"Am I?" He tilts his head. "She was quite beautiful. Quite... special. Like you."
Alexander grabs Marcus's collar. Shoves him against the wall.
"Stay away from her. From our family. From everything."
Marcus doesn't fight. Just smiles.
"Easy, son. I'm not here to hurt anyone."
*Son. He calls him son. Like he didn't kill his real father. Like he didn't cause the miscarriage. Like he isn't a monster.*
"Then why?"
Marcus looks at Alana. Something shifts in his eyes. Something hungry.
"Because I have information. About her mother. About who she really was." He pauses. "And about what your daughter will become."
*What?*
"What are you talking about?"
Marcus's smile widens.
"The prophecy, my dear. Your mother was part of it. And so are you." He glances at her belly. "And so is that child."
---
Silence.
Heavy. Suffocating.
Alana's mind races.
*Prophecy. What prophecy? My mother? What does he know?*
"What are you talking about?" Alexander's voice is rough. Dangerous.
Marcus brushes off his jacket. Straightens his collar. Like nothing happened.
"The Luna of Two Worlds. An old legend. One your grandmother probably told you." He looks at Alana. "Did she never mention it?"
*Grandmother. Gone. Dead. Before I could ask.*
"No."
"A pity." Marcus walks back to his chair. Sits. "The prophecy says: when a Luna is born of two worlds—wolf and human—she will unite the packs. Or destroy them."
*That's... insane.*
"You're insane."
Marcus laughs.
"Perhaps. But the prophecy is real. And your mother..." He traces the rim of his glass. "She was supposed to be that Luna. But she ran. With your father. And died before fulfilling her destiny."
*My mother. Running. From what?*
"Why are you telling us this?"
Marcus's eyes lock onto hers.
"Because now there's you. And that child." He leans forward. "Two Lunas. One bloodline. The prophecy is coming true."
Alexander steps between them.
"Get out."
"Alexander—"
"GET. OUT."
Marcus stands. Smooth. Unhurried.
"As you wish." He walks to the door. Pauses. "But think about what I said. You'll want to know the truth. Eventually."
He looks at Alana one last time.
"The baby will be special. Powerful. Many will want her." His smile turns cold. "I can protect her. If you let me."
*Protect her? You? The monster who killed her sibling?*
"Never."
Marcus shrugs.
"The offer stands. Think about it."
And he's gone.
---
The doors close.
Alana exhales. Shaking.
Alexander pulls her close.
"Don't listen to him. He's manipulating you."
*Is he? Or is there truth in his lies?*
"The photograph. My mother."
"We'll find out. But not from him."
*How? Who else knows?*
Derek speaks from the doorway.
"There might be someone. Someone who knew your mother. Who can tell you the truth."
*Who?*
"Who?"
"Elder Thorne. He knew everyone. Everything. If anyone has answers, it's him."
*Elder Thorne. The neutral judge. The keeper of laws.*
"Take me to him."
Alexander shakes his head.
"Not tonight. You need rest."
"I need answers."
"And you'll get them. Tomorrow." He cups her face. "Please. For the baby. For me. Rest tonight. We'll go first thing in the morning."
*He's right. I'm exhausted. The baby needs calm. Not stress.*
"Fine. Tomorrow."
Alexander kisses her forehead.
"Tomorrow. I promise."
---
That night, Alana dreams.
She's in a forest. Ancient. Massive trees. Moonlight filtering through leaves.
A woman stands ahead. Dark hair. Grey eyes. Beautiful. Familiar.
*Mother.*
Alana runs toward her. But the woman fades. Like mist.
A voice whispers:
*"The blood of wolf and human unite in one womb..."*
*The prophecy.*
*"She will walk among humans with wolf's eyes..."*
*What am I?*
*"And run with wolves with human heart..."*
*Who will I become?*
The woman appears again. Closer now. Smiling.
"Be strong, my daughter. The path is hard. But you are not alone."
*Wait. Don't go.*
"Beware the one who claims without love. His vengeance will be swift."
*Marcus? Or someone else?*
The woman fades. But one last whisper remains:
"Trust the wolf. She knows."
---
Alana wakes.
Dawn. Soft light. Alexander beside her. Still asleep.
She touches her belly. The baby stirs.
*Trust the wolf.*
She closes her eyes. Reaches for the presence inside her. The wolf. Dormant. But there.
*Hello.*
A response. Faint. But real.
*We're going to figure this out. Together.*
The wolf settles. Comfortable. Patient.
And Alana knows—whatever comes next, she's not alone.
She has Alexander. She has the baby. She has the wolf.
*And soon, I'll have answers.*
---
**END OF CHAPTER 36**
---