5 Chapter 65 The Howl
65 Chapter 65 The Howl
It had been seven and a half months along–far enough that it had already grown
strong.
It had been a fighter.
If it had been born, this pup might have become a warrior. No–it would have. Its blood wasn’t of an alpha line, but it carried strength nonetheless, a legacy written in its bones. A child like that could have been Claire’s redemption. Her chance at something
better.
If only she had let it live.
But as the pack doctor stared down at the lifeless pup in Claire’s womb, something felt… off.
He couldn’t explain it–couldn’t quite put his finger on what was wrong–but his instincts, honed by years of experience, were sounding an alarm. The child, though freshly dead, still seemed to radiate something unnatural. A faint, lingering presence clung to it. Power. Aura. Something not yet willing to fade.
It unsettled him.
Still, he pushed the feeling aside. Now wasn’t the time for speculation.
He carefully lifted the small, still form from Claire’s belly. Her wolf had already begun to heal her from within, the torn flesh slowly knitting back together on its own. The doctor didn’t even need to stitch her up–he only had to gently reposition her organs and ensure nothing was out of place. The body was doing the rest.
Within half an hour, Claire’s abdomen was nearly whole again. The speed and precision of the healing were astonishing, even for a shifter. Her wolf had clearly poured every ounce of its strength into saving her life.
And though the room was silent, no one present knew how to feel about that.
The pack doctor had already wrapped the lifeless pup in a clean towel, intending to give it to Claire. At first, she refused to even glance at it, her face turned away, lips trembling.
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“I said I don’t want to see it!” she snapped, her volce sharp with anger–but it cracked at the end, and a low, sorrowful whine escaped her throat. It wasn’t her own voice anymore. It was her wolf.
Her eyes began to glow a faint gold.
The wolf was stirring, clawing for control.
Though Claire’s words said no, her wolf said otherwise. Acting on instinct, the doctor gently laid the pup beside her.
Claire tensed. Her body trembled. Then, slowly, her hand–guided by something deeper than her own will–reached out. Her fingers shook as they brushed the towel–wrapped form. Her wolf had surfaced, just enough to act. Just enough to grieve.
A broken whimper slipped from her lips, and for the first time since the ordeal began, true tears spilled down her cheeks. Not the calculated kind Claire had shown before- these were her wolf’s tears. Pure, unguarded grief.
Then came the howl.
Low, long, aching.
Her wolf cried out from within her, mourning the pup that never got to breathe, never got to be held, never got to be loved. The sound echoed through the pack house, raw and heartbreaking.
And one by one, the other wolves heard it—and answered.
Their howls rose in sorrow, a chorus of mourning sent up to the skies, as if guiding the little soul gently toward the afterlife.
“Awuuuuu!!”
Claire’s wolf howled, the sound raw and aching as tears streamed down her face. She cradled the lifeless pup in her trembling arms, gently nuzzling its tiny face. Her fingers brushed over the pup’s small hands, hoping–desperately–that it would grasp her finger, give some sign it was still there.
But it didn’t.
It never would.
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Her lips quivered as another broken whine escaped her throat, soft and pitiful. The sorrow in the room was heartbreaking–so deep and honest that even the old pack doctor and the healer couldn’t hold back their tears. Unlike Claire, they could feel the wolf’s genuine grief, a grief that came from the soul. They didn’t just see her mourning -they heard her heart breaking.
“Ba… baby,” Claire’s wolf croaked, her voice hoarse with pain. “Mommy’s here… Mommy’s so sorry…”
She buried her face beside the pup’s unmoving form, pressing her nose gently to its cold cheek. Her sobs were quiet but unrelenting, the pain in them sharp and real. Nothing she said would bring her child back–but still, she spoke, as if holding on to the tiniest thread of hope.
But there was no response.
No warmth. No breath. Just silence.
And in that silence, her heart shattered again and again.
She didn’t know what more to say–what words could ever be enough? All she knew was the pain, so fierce and consuming, and the overwhelming reluctance to let go. The pack doctor and healer quietly stepped back, heads bowed in respect. They said nothing. This moment didn’t belong to them–it belonged to a grieving mother and the pup she never got to raise. And so, they gave her the space to mourn, to love, and to say goodbye in the only way her broken soul could.
The pack doctor silently shook his head. It had become painfully clear: any female could give birth, but not everyone was meant to be a mother. He didn’t even want to dwell on the thought–it was too bitter–so he stood there quietly, respectfully, as time stretched out in heavy silence.
Eventually, Claire’s wolf receded, slipping away like a shadow, and control returned to Claire. Her eyes, still red and puffy from crying, slowly opened. Her face was flushed, streaked with dried tears, but the pack doctor recognized the difference immediately. That sorrow hadn’t come from Claire–it had come from her wolf, and now that the wolf is gone, and so the sorrowful mourning of a mother and Claire went back to her usual expression of indifference, though she tried to hide it.
“I want you to arrange the funeral,” Claire said quietly. “I… I don’t want to
here. It’s
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too painful.”
Her words carried a hollow edge, too smooth, too composed. Though she appeared grief–stricken on the outside, the pack doctor sensed the truth. The tears and the trembling voice belonged to her wolf, not her. Claire herself seemed detached, already seeking closure, as if she just wanted this chapter to be over and done with so she could rest.
The night had already transformed into day when Claire pulled the rope beside her bed to call for her attendants. Her usual omega attendant hadn’t returned, so others came in her place. At Claire’s silent nod, the pack doctor and healer were dismissed without a word of thanks, the remains of the lifeless pup wrapped securely in their
arms.
Quietly, they returned to the small clinic and began to prepare a simple ritual for the pup. But before they could complete it, a summons came from Claire once again. Reluctantly, they placed the pup’s remains in a cool chamber to preserve the body, knowing they still needed to send the child off properly, for the sake of Claire’s wolf, if nothing else. Only then might her grieving spirit find a sliver of peace.
When they returned, Claire didn’t bother with pleasantries. She got straight to the
point.
“I need you to stay quiet about what happened,” she said coolly. “I don’t want Luna Addison to face any more trouble… and I don’t want Zion feeling guilty.”
Her voice was calm, her expression composed–but something about her words felt rehearsed, too perfectly delivered. To the healer, it didn’t feel like compassion; it felt like damage control. Claire wasn’t trying to protect others—she was trying to protect herself. She didn’t want Zion to think any less of her, to see the cracks in the carefully crafted image she’d built as a gentle, loving mother and a worthy Luna candidate.
66 Chapter 66 Levi Getting A Little Closer To The Truth
