Page 126 of Run Little Omega

The babies move inside me, their collective presence a constant reminder of what's at stake. Not just our lives, but the possibility of magic unfettered by court divisions. The potential return of something ancient and powerful that the seasonal courts have spent centuries suppressing.

As we approach the mountain archway, I feel a sudden, sharp awareness of the choice before us. We could stay hidden in this sanctuary, protected at least temporarily from court forces. Or we can continue moving, fighting, surviving—not just for ourselves but for the four lives that represent a future neither court nor human has imagined for centuries.

I glance at Cadeyrn, seeing my own determination reflected in his ice-blue eyes. Whatever remains broken between us—whatever may never fully heal—we are bound by something stronger than anger or betrayal. By possibility. By transformation. By the wild, unpredictable magic of what we've created together.

"Ready?" he asks, frost gathering at his fingertips as he prepares to face whatever awaits beyond the archway.

I straighten my shoulders, one hand resting protectively over the four tiny lives that have forever altered the trajectory of two realms.

"Ready," I reply.

The archway begins to open before us, revealing a path into the unknown. Behind us, the sanctuary trembles as combined court magic assaults the heart-tree's defenses. Before us lies a journey none have taken in seven centuries.

We step through together, neither leading nor following—alpha and omega transformed by forces older than the courts themselves. Into the mountains. Into the wild.

The hunt continues, but not as the courts intended. This time, we are not prey fleeing predators. We are something new, something ancient, something the divided courts have forgotten how to recognize.

We are the Wild Hunt reborn.

CHAPTER45

POV: Briar

The mountain sanctuarybuys us three days of relative peace. Three days where the trees themselves keep watch, where ancient magic shimmers in the air like suspended frost, where I can almost pretend we're safe.

Almost.

On the fourth morning, I wake to find I can no longer button my stolen leather vest over my swollen abdomen. Fantastic. The quadruplets have grown again—not gradually, but in another of those unsettling overnight surges that leave my skin stretched tight and marked with new silvery lines. At this rate, I'll look like I swallowed a small cow by next week.

"You're in pain," Cadeyrn says, not a question but an observation. He stands at the entrance to our small cave, cillae pulsing across his skin in rhythm with my own.

"No, I'm dancing with joy," I reply dryly, then sigh at his concerned expression. "Yeah, it hurts. Turns out four babies doing somersaults on your internal organs isn't exactly comfortable."

I press a hand against the small of my back where a persistent ache has settled. Our claiming bond makes lying pointless anyway—he can probably feel every twinge and cramp through our connection.

"Maybe they're practicing for a career in acrobatics," I add, trying to lighten the moment.

As if on cue, a particularly vigorous movement ripples across my belly, visible even through the thin linen shirt I'm wearing. I catch Cadeyrn staring, his ice-blue eyes fixed on the movement with an intensity that sends an unexpected flutter through my chest. It's easy to forget, between moments of mortal danger and unresolved betrayal, how devastatingly handsome he is—especially now that his transformation has given him a raw, primal edge that makes my omega instincts sit up and take notice.

Not helpful, biology. Really not helpful.

Cadeyrn approaches slowly, respecting the careful distance we've maintained since the blood ritual. But something's different today—a hesitation in his movement that speaks of desire carefully leashed.

"The Wild Magic is growing stronger in them," he says, his voice dropping to that low register that still makes my skin tingle despite everything between us. "I can sense it from here."

"Join the club. They're like tiny magical furnaces." I shift uncomfortably as one of them kicks directly under my ribs. "I'm starting to think they're fighting for territory in there."

The Hound materializes from the shadows at the back of the cave, his mismatched eyes reflecting the morning light. "The court forces can sense it too. Their tracking parties draw closer each day, despite the forest's interference."

Well, that kills the moment. A chill that has nothing to do with Winter Court magic settles in my bones. We've been moving steadily higher into the mountains, following ancient paths revealed by the heart-tree's magic. But we can't run forever. Not with my body changing so rapidly, not with the courts united against us.

"We need a more permanent solution," I say, struggling to my feet like an overturned turtle. Gods, when did standing become such an ordeal? "Somewhere to wait until they're born."

Cadeyrn and The Hound exchange a look I can't quite interpret. There's tension there, and something that might be reluctant agreement.

"What?" I demand, recognizing the signs of a conversation they've already had without me. "Whatever you're thinking, just say it. I'm too pregnant and too cranky for cryptic man-speak."

Cadeyrn sighs, frost briefly clouding around his lips. "I've been considering a possibility. One that carries significant risk, but might offer our best chance."

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