Chapter 191

Olivia

The evening sun filtered through the windows, casting long shadows across the wooden floor of our home. My thoughts were a chaotic whirlwind, replaying the earlier events, the accusations, the weight of tradition.

Nathan entered the room, the tension between us still palpable. I could sense his struggle to choose his words, the fine line he was treading between his allegiance to the pack and his loyalty to our little family.

“What do you want?” I hissed, unable to hide the disdain in my voice as I gently rocked Elliot in one arm and Aurora in the other. “Did you come to tell me that my babies are a bad omen again?”

“Olivia,” he began, his voice tinged with a weariness I hadn’t noticed before, “I know how you feel.”

“If you knew how I felt, then you wouldn’t be siding with them,” I growled.

Nathan sighed. “I’m not siding with them,” he explained, his voice soft and quiet. “But you have to understand. The Elders... they’ve seen so much, been around for so long. Their wisdom isn’t something we can just ignore.”

His words, intended to be a bridge, only seemed to widen the chasm between us.

“So now you’re an advocate for the Elders?” I asked. “Our children, Nathan. OUR children are being labeled, being judged! And you’re telling me to ‘consider’ the words of those who would cast them out?”

His eyes, amber and deep, searched mine. “It's not like that, Liv. I’m just saying that they’ve been stewards of our traditions for generations. Maybe there’s something we’re not seeing. Something they understand better than we do.”

I could feel the sting of tears, not from sadness, but from raw frustration. “You should be on my side. And now, with your doubts... I truly feel alone in this.”

“Olivia, that’s not the case. You know how much I love you and our children. But this isn’t just about us. It’s about our place in the pack, about understanding and respecting beliefs that have shaped our lives.”

A surge of anger welled up, and words tumbled out before I could stop them. “Maybe I was wrong about you,” I hissed, standing. “Maybe I was wrong to believe that you would always stand by me. Just... leave me alone, Nathan.”

He looked at me, the pain evident in his eyes, but he didn’t argue further. With a heavy sigh, he left the room, leaving me to my swirling thoughts.

The nursery, painted in soft pastel hues, became my refuge that evening. Memories of decorating it, of excitedly preparing for our twins, seemed like a lifetime ago. Now, every creak of the house, every rustle of the trees outside, heightened my anxiety.

Would they come? Would they take away Aurora and Elliot?

Hours seemed to drag on. The babies slept soundly, their soft breaths rhythmic and comforting. I watched over them, my resolve unshaken. No one would harm them, not while I was there.

Yet, exhaustion has a way of creeping up on even the most vigilant. Slowly, despite my best intentions, I found my eyelids drooping, my body sinking into the soft chair, and sleep claiming me.

The dream was vivid. An expansive forest lay ahead, the moonlight filtering through dense canopies, casting a silvery glow.

There, in a clearing, stood my wolf. Majestic, fierce, and yet her eyes held a depth of wisdom I hadn’t seen before.

She approached, her voice echoing in my mind. “You have a strength unknown even to yourself. The mantle of the ancient is not determined by age, but by spirit.”

Confusion clouded my mind. “What do you mean?”

“You, Olivia, carry the spirit of the ancient. The cycle has come full circle. One departs, and another rises.”

My heart raced. “Are you saying... I am to become the next Ancient Wolf?”

A knowing look shone in her eyes. “In time, all will be revealed. For now, I need you to trust in your strength, in the bond with your children.”

“Then what?” I asked, feeling my anxieties begin to rise. “What if they take my babies from me? What then?”

But my wolf didn’t answer. Her eyes seemed to hold a million thoughts, a million feelings, but she said nothing.

No matter how hard I begged her to tell me what was going to happen, no matter how hard I kicked and screamed and demanded for her to keep my children safe, she had nothing to say.

The scene began to blur, the edges fraying, and darkness encroached.

I woke with a start, the morning light already streaming into the nursery. The dream, so real and vivid, lingered, its weight pressing down on my mind.

It was just a dream, wasn’t it? A product of my heightened emotions, my stress, my fears? Shaking my head, I tried to dismiss the memory, yet a nagging sensation remained.

The soft coos of the twins brought me back to reality. Their innocent eyes, so full of wonder, looked up at me. Whatever the future held, I vowed to protect them, to shield them from the world’s judgments.

A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. Nathan, his face etched with worry, peeked in. “Did you sleep in here last night?” he asked gently.

I hesitated for a moment, the raw emotions from the previous night still fresh. But as I looked at Nathan and saw the pain in his eyes, I knew that I couldn’t stay mad at him forever.

I nodded, standing and shooting Elliot and Aurora one last glance. They were still swaddled comfortably in their bassinets, blissfully unaware of their place in the world.

“Yeah,” I replied, stretching a bit.

Nathan was silent for a moment before slowly stepping into the room. He began to close the distance between us, but then stopped, seemingly thinking better of it. His shoulders seemed to sag a bit.

“I’m sorry, Olivia.”

“I know.” I let out an almost inaudible sigh, my own shoulders sagging too. “I’m sorry, too.”

A heavy silence hung over us, one that was punctuated only by the sound of the birds waking up and someone mowing their lawn down the street. I finally broke our silence with another sigh, and a soft smile.

“Just… promise you’ll do your best,” I murmured.

Nathan nodded vigorously. “Of course,” he replied. “You know I’ll always try my best. We’ll get to the bottom of this, and find out what’s really going on here. I was thinking last night, and… You’re right. It’s just an old tradition. I won’t let it get between us.”

Nathan’s words were a comfort. Without a second thought, I moved forward and closed the rest of the distance between us. I threw my arms around him and nuzzled into his neck, blinking back the tears that threatened to come.

He hesitated for a moment before doing the same. His arms felt safe and warm around me, and as he rested his cheek on the top of my head, I couldn’t help but let out a small sigh of relief.

“Elliot and Aurora aren’t bad omens,” he murmured. “And as the Alpha of our pack, I won’t let anything happen to them.”