Page 1 of Lycan Prince's Secret Baby

Chapter 1

Leah

The steep hillside was unforgiving beneath my feet, loose stones skittering as I hurried forward.

“Ahhh!” I slipped on the uneven ground, and the world tilted. My arms flailed in a desperate attempt to stop myself from falling. My heart pounding, I regained my balance, momentarily surprised I remained upright.

But I’d let out a cry. I ducked down in the coarse grasses of the hillside like a deer hiding in a thicket, and my breath caught in my throat as the night closed in around me.

I glanced over my shoulder, realizing that the muted light from the Blood Moon Pack’s quarters had vanished behind the trees, swallowed by darkness.

I blinked, struggling to adjust my eyes to the pitch-black. Storm clouds overhead blotted out even the faintest glimmer of stars. Squatting low, I used my hands like a blind person. My fingers brushed the cool earth, and the feather-soft bristles of grasses stroked my skin.

“Ffff,” I smothered my cry as I yanked my hand away. A stinging nettle had pricked my palm.

Edging around the offending plant, I groped along the ground, hoping to feel the right texture beneath my fingertips. The weight of the pouch around my waist, heavy with sequesters, reminded me to remain in human form. I would have shifted into wolf form if I hadn’t needed the equipment to carry back the precious herb I sought. My wolf’s eyes would cut through the night effortlessly. I knew the darkness would come alive with dozens of scents and sounds that were just out of reach in my current body. Although my senses were heightened compared to humans, I still felt handicapped. As I could only see the hazy outline of leaves and stems looming through the night, touch and smell were my best tools to identify the plants around me.

My wolf stirred within me, rising in response to the fear thumping through my chest at the risk I was taking.

A necessary risk.

I thought about Mary’s ragged breath and feverish slumber, reminding me why I had to keep moving.

Ican’tlose anyone else.

My throat tightened as the memory of a fiery red wolf lying too still flooded my thoughts. Numbness washed over me, my heart heavy under the weight of my loss. My past was the perfect tinder to fan the flames of my current despair. I forced the memory away and shifted my focus to the task at hand. Finding that herb could mean life or death for Mary.

My wolf’s instincts raged within me, wanting to break free and protect me. The hurried beat of my pulse made it seem like I’d strayed into unknown territory. And, in a way, these hills were unfamiliar. They’d once been my childhood playground, but I hadn’t been allowed to walk here in years.

Three years ago, this stretch of Alaskan wilderness filled with mossy valleys and glacial rivers had been ripped away from my pack, the Blood Moon. We’d been defeated by the Moonlight Pack. Ever since, our home had become a place of servitude, and our lives were dictated by others.

The memory of all I’d lost surged within me as I recounted the days since Mary’s injury. Her gash was severe. It was critical she got the help she needed.

I patted the sequesters in the pouch at my waist. I took a deep breath, reminding myself that I needed to cut the herb at the base of the stem. Its anti-bacterial and anti-inflammatory properties were the most potent there. I was grateful I had this vital knowledge to help my friend. I was the herbalist of the Blood Moon Pack. The scents of the herbs around me were a language I’d learned long ago from my mother, our pack’s healer.

For Mary. For Mary. For Mary.

The mantra kept me moving. I scrambled up the slope, trying to orient myself in the darkness. The Moonlight Pack never allowed us this far from our quarters or workstations. I racked my brains, trying to remember the lay of the land.

As I reached into tall, leafy shrubs, I realized too late that I’d stumbled into the thick patch of Devil’s Club shrubs on the east side of the hill. The spikes on the underside of their leaves brought tears to my eyes. I swallowed down the sounds of pain threatening to spill from my lips. The ankles of my overalls snagged on their spikey stems, and I backed away to break free.

My hands stung from the scratches. Then, I remembered the Wormweed growing nearby. I scented its fragrant leaves, stooped down, and burrowed my hands into its cool leaves.

As I recovered my breath, my knees grew damp in the moist ground. The cool night wind stirred the grasses. The scent of sage and the sweetness of wildflowers were alive with a whole lifetime of memories. My friends and I had chased butterflies through these sun-dappled grasses. When we’d been older, we’d crested these peaks as we’d learned the thrill of embracing our wolf forms. But now, we were confined to the smallest areas, doing the dirtiest and most labor-intensive jobs.

Mary, me, and many other Blood Moons slogged our guts out daily in the kitchen. The cramped kitchen was chaotic, and the air stunk of grease, simmering broth, and the orders of the Moonlight Pack. I remembered how the rickety work surface had collapsed on Mary. Its sharp metal edge had sliced through the back of her calf, right down to the muscle. We’d cleaned it with boiled warm water and tied a clean cloth around the wound. But that was all we could do.

Days passed, each one a struggle as Mary hobbled around. She insisted she was fine, but I could see the infection creeping in—a telltale redness around the wound that wasn’t healing. With no access to the infirmary or the herbs we desperately needed, I could only watch as her strength dwindled under the weight of the tasks she still wasn’t excused from.

My fists gripped the grasses, ripping out chunks as I thought of the conditions responsible for Mary’s injury. We were overworked and constantly bullied by the Moonlights. Emily’s voice, one of the Moonlights who supervised us in the kitchen, played through my mind, “Mary, an eighty-year-old worksfaster than you! Will we get dinner before the next full moon?”She and the other Moonlights took pride in mocking the weakest among us. And at the moment, that was Mary.

Mary’s body, like any shifter’s, should have been able to heal such a wound quickly. But as it was, we Blood Moons were hardly getting enough food to sustain us, and with the labor-intensive work and poor living conditions we endured, it wasn’t any wonder that Mary’s body hadn’t had the energy to heal her.

But I will heal her.

The Moonlights may withhold access to the infirmary and ban us from these hills, but the night brought opportunity. The cloak of darkness meant I was less likely to be spotted by the Moonlight patrol. Instinctively, I ducked lower to the ground as I thought of the Moonlight soldiers patrolling. A prickle of fear moved down my spine at the thought of getting caught. Despite the cool breeze, sweat prickled my forehead. If I was caught, the Moonlights would be swift in their punishment.

I fought the dread building in my gut and drew my hands away from the soothing leaves of Wormweed.

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