CHAPTER 382: SHADOWS AT THE WINDOW...

Ramsey

Eight hours ago

There was something about the human world that bothered me—the way they had such casual regard for their own safety. They had regard for systems that couldn’t protect them, channelled their love and energy to things that ought not to be and then the constant hypocrisy of loving animals, not wanting to harm them... and the strange things I’ve witnessed since I arrived here.

They do not understand the natural order of things and in their everyday life do their best to go against it. They leave their children unguarded, their loved ones vulnerable to threats they couldn’t even imagine. Police patrols arrived after the threat had already caused damage.

Here, it was all...pretend. A play for security in a world that had never truly been safe.

I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Lyla collapsing, saw the blood pooling beneath her, felt the terror that had gripped me when I thought I might lose everything that mattered. I hated myself for getting angry with her earlier, for not being there the moment she started bleeding, for letting my frustration cloud my judgment when she needed me most.

Now she had withdrawn again, pulling back into that protective shell she created when I became too much to bear.

I checked my watch: 2:03 a.m. I’d finally managed to soothe Lyla to sleep for the second time that night. She kept having nightmares, shouting out in her sleep, thrashing against invisible things that I couldn’t fight for her. Each cry tore at my heart, but there was nothing I could do except hold her and whisper soothing words until she settled again.

Unable to stand the compression of the tiny human house any longer, I grabbed a bottle of wine from the kitchen and carried a chair out to the small balcony. The night air was cooler here, helping to clear my head as I tried to make sense of everything that had happened.

My phone buzzed with an incoming message. The sender was listed as "Unknown," but as I read the words, I felt anger simmering inside of me.

Alpha Ramsey Kincaid, you have been summoned. Appear before the court within a fortnight or prepare to forfeit your title and the legacy of your ancestors. Bring the werewolf you made your Luna. There are questions and debts.

The more I stared at the message, the more anger built in my chest. Of course, I knew what the Hollow Kin were—ancient Lycans who held authority over our entire species in the supernatural realm.

They were the silent checkmates, existing before the rise of Lycan rule, and they only intervened when the natural order was at risk.

But why did they want to summon me now, of all times? When Lyla was hurt, when our children were at risk, when everything was falling apart?

Suddenly, a movement caught my eye. Instantly, I turned off my phone’s light and listened, every sense in me straining against the darkness.

Footsteps. They were about five hundred yards away from the house, and our house was the target. They were slowly approaching from the left side, where the bedroom was. Humans usually go to bed before midnight, so it couldn’t be a human.

Besides, from the numerous footsteps approaching, I knew there were many.

Taking a deep breath, I quietly rose from my seat and inched back into the house, closing the door soundlessly, melting into the darkness. I crossed the living room with ease, moving as stealthily as I could on the cool tiles.

When I reached the bedroom, I slipped inside, shutting the door gently behind me so that I wouldn’t wake Lyla.

Lyla lay tangled in the sheets, and her face was scrunched in exhaustion. She was snoring softly, occasionally whimpering at whatever demons she was fighting with. I wanted to comfort her desperately, but first I had to deal with the immediate threat.

I quietly went to the window and locked it, then rechecked the lock to ensure it was secure. The footsteps were growing closer now, accompanied by other sounds—a wet, dragging noise that made my Lycan recoil with instinctive disgust.

Pressing myself into the corner of the room, I positioned myself between the window and Lyla’s sleeping form, ready to defend her with my life if necessary. The moon was shining faintly in the sky, barely illuminating anything within our house, and it didn’t help that the streetlights were faulty, too.

I waited in tense silence for almost five minutes before I heard a soft creaking at the window, as if something was testing the frame. A putrid smell wafted up to my nose, a combination of decay, rotting flesh and burnt wood. They were not werewolves; I could tell that much, nor were they rogues.

Through the glass, I could make out shadowy figures moving in the yard below. Lycans do not possess enhanced night vision like werewolves, despite the darkness. So, I was barely able to see anything.

I readied myself to attack if any of them managed to break through the window, every muscle coiled and prepared to fight. But then I heard something strange: loud distress noises coming from outside, followed by the sounds of fighting. Lashing, thudding, the wet impact of claws against flesh.

Peering carefully through the window, I watched in amazement as someone fought the creatures in our yard. The defender moved with speed and strength. I strained my eyes to make out who it was that was fighting, but everything was a hazy blur. My night vision wasn’t the best.

The fight seemed to last forever, though it was probably only minutes. Finally, the putrid smell began to fade, and the sounds of fighting ceased. Whoever had defended us had apparently won.

Deciding I needed to investigate, I quietly made my way outside and rounded the corner of the house. A tall figure was dragging what appeared to be bodies away from our property, moving efficiently.

The figure seemed to sense my presence before I could get closer. In one fluid motion, it leapt away from me and disappeared into the night, moving faster than any human could manage.

I stood there in the aftermath, staring at the empty yard where a battle had just taken place. But when I examined the area more closely, I found nothing—no blood, no scuff marks in the dirt, no trace that anything unusual had happened. Even the putrid smell had completely vanished.

Now, hours later, I stood in the corner of the bedroom, watching the pack doctor and healer Miriam had come with examine Lyla.

They said the babies were fine and that their mother was probably just stressed, but the more I thought about it, the less it seemed like a coincidence.

I made sure she was always properly rested and had her meals on time. Occasions where she’d insist that she must do certain things, I’d still help her out. So, where was the stress coming from?

Since Lyla was still asleep during the examination, the pack doctor was asking me some questions when Lyla started screaming in her sleep, clutching at her stomach and sobbing.

Miriam had instantly reached for her, trying to wake her up until finally, she opened her eyes and collapsed against Miriam’s body, sobbing. I stood there helplessly watching as the healer checked her vitals, murmuring quietly to the doctor about stress and hormonal spikes.

I couldn’t help but wonder if what had happened early this morning was part of the problem. To further prove my suspicion, I went back later this morning, when the skies were bright, but had seen no evidence.

I didn’t know who had defended us – if it had been someone from the pack, the person wouldn’t have run away, I was sure of it.

Or...

Had I dreamed the entire thing? The stress of Lyla’s medical emergency, combined with the threatening message from the Hollow Kin, could have caused my mind to conjure threats that didn’t actually exist. But the memory felt so real, so vivid, that I couldn’t dismiss it entirely.

"She’s stabilising," Dr. Morrison said quietly, checking the monitors beside Lyla’s bed. "The babies are healthy, and her vital signs are returning to normal."

I nodded, relief flooding through me as I watched my mate’s breathing even out. Nanny continued stroking her hair, murmuring soothing words.

"It was just a dream, darling," Nanny whispered. "You’re safe now."

But as I sat there, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was at play here. The Hollow Kin’s message burned in my memory, and the question remained: What did they want? Why were they insisting that Lyla must come with me?

And somewhere in the human world, creatures with putrid breath had tried to reach my wife—whether in reality or in my stress-induced imagination, the threat felt equally real.

The doorbell’s chime echoed through the house, snapping me out of my thoughts. Lyla lifted her head from Miriam’s chest, staring at the door. I could see her eyes had gone wide with fear.

"Who is that?" she asked.

"It’s probably no one, darling," I said quietly with a smile as I squeezed her hand. "I’ll just go and check and come back, okay?"

She nodded and murmured weakly, leaning against Miriam’s body. "Be careful."

I nodded and slipped out of the room.

When I opened the door, it was the police from yesterday. Paul was leaning on the fender of their car, his eyes were covered with dark eyeglasses, making it difficult to know what he was thinking.