Prolouge
Claire’s POV
The cramps started around noon. I was sitting on my favorite chair, a grey rocking chair where I liked to sit and read to my unborn children. Just as my mother had done with me, I couldn’t wait to hold my children to read and rock them to sleep on this chair.
I looked down fondly at my big stomach, the stretched skin covered by a layer of thin, blue fabric. I had opted not to wear jeans and instead was wearing a stretchy pair of leggings, as I had been the last trimester of my pregnancy. My baby blue shirt was thin and stretchy, perfect for my enlarged stomach.
The living room only had the rocking chair and a loveseat with a medium sized television. There was a simple gray carpet that covered the hardwood floor, and a ceiling fan circled lazily.
The T.V.. blared softly as I knitted my children a blanket. The blanket was a soft blue color with a little pattern going by the way I had stitched it. I had planned to give it to the youngest of my bunch, whether female or male. They couldn’t care for the color when they were a baby. When they grew up, they would treasure the blanket, so I decided to make one.
I had been working on it for months now, sitting and knitting although I wanted to move and exercise. It was worth it; the blanket was tightly knitted and beautiful. Nearly done, I had waited for the day I would give birth to my bunch.
I fondly remembered when my husband found out I was pregnant. We had been trying for years, and on our wedding anniversary, I fainted. I was immediately rushed to the hospital, where the doctor ran several tests. It was a week later when we got the results; I was pregnant.
The next few months were a blur. Sebastian was determined that the children be as healthy as could be. If I got dizzy, he would immediately rush me to the hospital where we found out I just wasn’t drinking enough water. After that little incident, Sebastian would make sure I had more than enough of my cravings, and sometimes more than twice the amount of water I needed. He just couldn’t wait until the day of the birth.
Five o’clock rolled around and the pain became more intense. With a start, I realized I was in labor. I called for my husband Sebastion. However, I underestimated how nervous he actually was to become a father. He started freaking out, and I was in so much pain I couldn’t hurry him along. It had been ten minutes and he still didn’t have shoes on.
The contractions became even more frequent so I managed to hiss out between my clenched teeth, “Unless you want to deliver this baby yourself, you need to get me to the hospital now.” Suffice to say we’re at the hospital in record time.
He rushed me out, slipping on a pair of slippers even though it was winter, and carried me to the car. I started screaming about halfway to the hospital. Sebastion tried to calm me down but I was not backing up.
The contractions were painful, and each one was intense. They came every forty-five seconds now, and these babies were ready to come out.
The doctors rushed me on a gurney to the room which had been prepared for the birth. The walls had been painted with a beautiful tranquil forest, in an effort to calm my inner wolf. The ceiling had a picture of my favorite painting. It was simply all the colors of the rainbow looking like it was exploding out of a volcano.
I was placed on the white bed and Sebastian was at my side holding my hand. The bed was uncomfortable, the pillow flat, but my mate was beside me. I gave him an exhausted smile, and he smiled back at me with a fond grin.
The birth passed in a blur of pain and pride. One by one, my children were born into the world. Their cries of life brought joy into my life. As my last child came into their life I became worried. Only a faint cry escaped their lips, however, I was too ready to rest to care.
A half an hour passed and I was just about to pass out when the doctors came in with my children. There was something off. I know for certain that I gave birth to five children yet the nurses only brought in four.
I asked aloud my internal question, “Where is the fifth child?”
The doctor, a mid thirties woman named Ashley looked at my four healthy children and sighed. Her doctor’s coat was being fiddled in her glove clad hands. Her silky, brown hair framed her curvy face. Her eyes held guilt and sadness.
She took a deep breath before answering. “The fifth child, a beautiful baby boy, is underdeveloped. Though you are more able to hold five children, your youngest was unable to fully develop, as the space in the womb was taken up by the four other children. He has to undergo special care.”
The look on my face I know changed to horror. I felt my lip wobbling, my little baby boy. I felt another sob build in my throat, I don’t know why I was crying. Sebastian took one look at me and climbed into bed with me. Holding my back against his chest, he whispered reassurances into my ear.
His warm back warmed me through and through. His deep breaths calmed me down as I copied him. He kissed my temple, and I relaxed totally against his chest.
The nurses placed the four healthy children into the cribs that were prepared, as the fifth one lay empty. I felt another sob build in my throat. It was eased when I realized the little guy would have four protective older siblings to protect him. It didn’t matter what happened; he would always have four loving siblings.
The stress and exhaustion of the birth finally caught up to me and I fell into a fitful sleep.
Sebastian’s POV
I stared down at my beautiful luna’s face, who just gave birth to my children. Her face was stained with tears and I vowed then and there that I would protect her and my, no our children, until the day I died.
I felt my gamma, the leader of the warriors, say through the link that bonded us as a pack, Alpha, there is a rogue at the western edge of the property.
I sent a short reply, I’ll be there soon, and tucked my mate into bed. After making sure she was tucked in nice and tight, the way she liked it, I headed out the door.
I walked out of the front door and shed my clothes. Quickly shifting into my wolf, I howled at the moon and started running towards where my warriors had alerted me of their presence. I skidded to a stop at the edge of the warrior circle standing around the edge of the property line.
A warrior circle was a very common way to corner enemies. It was most commonly used with rogues, as they can’t fight twenty or more trained warriors at once.
I looked at all the greys and blacks of my warriors and had to hold back a wolf chuff at my gamma. He was a white wolf with brown ears, and easily only half the size of all the warriors. He may have been tiny, but he was the fiercest warrior. That is why I chose him to be my gamma.
I growled softly to let the warriors be aware of my presence and they separated. The rogue in front of me looked sad, to say the least. A rouge, more commonly known as a packless wolf, was commonly deemed insane. A werewolf needs a pack to survive, and rogues were outcasted wolves. They were usually outcasted due to aggression, murder, or any other major law they broke. What confused me was that the rogue that stood in front of us was docile.
His blonde, greasy hair hung around his face in thick strips. His nose was red and swollen, and slightly crooked. His brown eyes held no life, and his long arms lay limp next to his thin sides. His legs looked too weak to hold his weight, and he leaned heavily on one of them.
He looked almost dead, to say honestly. His thin, chapped lips slowly formed words and he whispered quietly and hoarsely, “I’m sorry.”
The warriors around me were utterly confused, and so was I. My mind started racing. Why in the world would he be sorry? I sniffed around for more scents, and I found several. The land around him, and he himself was drenched in the scents of other men.
It finally clicked in my head. He was a distraction. He was sorry because he was distracting us so that the other rogues could attack. This tactic was commonly used when one pack attacks another, and the rogues had apparently learned and used the same tactic.
I turned around and bowled through the circle of warriors, racing to get back to my mate.
Bursting into the hospital I raced to the room my mate was being held in. Shifting back to human, my bones cracking and my fur receding I stood without a care to my nudity. My mate had turned over and was facing the door, her small frame peaceful and undisturbed. I counted our children, one, two, three, four. Wait, there were only four.
I cursed to myself, of course. I shifted back into my wolf. Nobody wanted to see a naked man running through the halls. Running as fast as I could through the empty halls, I arrived at the special care center to find it ravaged.
Sniffing around the wreckage, I was crushed to realize that the faint scent of my child was gone. I howled, calling the warriors to me to find my child.
We searched all night, combing through the forest, searching for any sign of my mate. The next few weeks followed the same, but there wasn’t a trace.
The distraction, the only possible lead, turned out to be an old slave of the rogues. He was sacrificed as a distraction to find someone new, because he was destroyed by the way he was raised.
It crushed my heart that my child would grow up the way he had.
He had briefly described his time there. He was barely fed and abused severely. The worst part, and Claire had a panic attack when this was mentioned, he was robbed of the most sacred innocence. He said it had only started when he presented as an omega.
Presenting is a ritual that a child goes through to find their mate. When they turn eighteen, they shift into their wolf for the first time, receive the ranking of an alpha, neutral, beta, or omega. On top of all the pain of shifting, the hormones of a second gender, they start releasing hormones that attract their soulmate. Their mate would be their perfect match, they would be destined for each other.
While they shifted at eighteen, they met their wolves around puberty. It was an attempt to make the shifting process easier. As well, a wolf will be able to sense their wolf and could guide their human to their mate earlier than they meet them.
Most people wait for their first time with their mate. Other people don’t, or are forced. That is considered the ultimate sin, and punished ravenously for forcing themselves on somebody else.
I vowed to find and avenge my little child, whether it happened to them or not. For now, I would wait, and raise my children to remember their lost brother.
