The next morning, the Alpha Cedric's packhouse awoke to chaos.
Nyma burned. Not with rage, not with heartbreak—but with fever.
Luna Elara was the first to notice. Before dawn, she had slipped into Nyma's room, a habit she had only recently broken after years of checking on her children as they slept. And Nyma's muffled sobs the earlier night had shattered that resolve, rekindling the instinct to protect not just her daughter, but the life growing inside her, gnawing at her like an old, familiar ache. Her daughter's pain was one thing, but the thought of her grandchild suffering too? That she couldn't bear.
So Elara came only to find, her face ashen, Nyma lay drenched in sweat, her skin sickly pale, her body wracked with tremors as if caught in some unseen storm.
"Kael!" Elara's voice pierced through the halls, sharp and urgent. "Call Amelia, now! Nyma got fever. "
Kael was in the room before the words had fully left their mother's mouth, his eyes darting to the bed where Nyma lay, shaking.
His heart plummeted.
"Ny?" He was at her side in an instant, pressing a hand to her burning forehead. "Shit—she's burning up!"
Raina appeared in the doorway, still in her sleepwear, her hair disheveled from sleep. But when she took one look at Nyma's trembling form, all exhaustion vanished.
"She's gone into shock," she breathed. "From stress," Her voice caught, but they all knew what she meant. From everything.
Amelia, their Beta female, stormed into the room moments later after Kael had mindlinked her to rush, Amelia healer's bag in hand. She didn't ask questions. Didn't waste time. She pressed fingers to Nyma's pulse, checked her temperature, and then—her sharp gaze snapped to Elara.
"It's too high," she said, voice tight with worry. "If we don't bring it down soon—"
Nyma whimpered suddenly, a broken, helpless sound that shattered whatever composure her family had left.
Elara didn't hesitate. She climbed onto the bed, pulling Nyma into her lap like she had when she was a pup.
"My heart, you have to fight," she whispered against Nyma's damp forehead, brushing sweat-soaked hair from her face. "You're strong. You've always been strong."
But Nyma wasn't responding.
Kael turned on his heel. "Ice packs, cold water—anything that can cool her down," he ordered, voice edged with panic.
Raina was already gone before he had finished speaking, rushing to do as he said. Raina rushed into the room, her arms full of ice pakcs and stripes with emergency kit. Kael helped her in sorting and assisting with things.
Nyma's skin was on fire, her breath coming in deep ragged breaths as she twisted in sweat-soaked sheets. The fever had taken hold in the night, a raging inferno that no damp cloth or healing tonic could quell. The heat of the fever was stronger than the moon's heat.
Her mother hovered at the bedside, hands fluttering like frightened birds. "She's never been sick like this—not even as a child!"
Alpha Cedric growled, a sound of pure frustration, pacing like a caged wolf."She was fine last night—what the hell happened?"
"Aunt Amelia—say something!" Kael snarled, his control fraying at Aunt Amelia who held Nyma's pulse for more than fifteen minutes now and still remained focused, his hands clenching and unclenching as he fought the urge to shake Nyma awake.
Raina didn't hesitate. She pressed an ice pack against Nyma's burning forehead, another against the pulse of her wrist. The moment the cold touched her skin, Nyma flinched violently, her body jerking against the sheets.
Elara gasped, her healer's instincts warring with her maternal panic. Nyma's body as too hot to touch even her raven hairs were sizzling hot to run finger along. "She's burning up too fast."
Kael snapped his head up. "What do you mean, too fast?" It was then he noticed the unnatural effect of her temperature.
The room smelled of fever-sweat and fear.
Everyone stared at Nyma, who was motionless on the bed, her skin flushed scarlet, her breathing shallow and rapid. The ice packs melted within minutes of touching her skin, the water in the basin turning tepid almost instantly.
Kael's hands shook as he pressed another cold compress to her forehead. "Nyma," he urged, voice rough with desperation. "Just open your eyes.Damn it, look at us!"
But she didn't.
Raina worked beside him, her movements quick and efficient, but her usual calm had fractured. She fumbled with the emergency kit, dropping bandages and vials of tonic. "Her pulse is too rapid," she whispered. "It's like her body is burning itself alive."
Nyma's mother let out a broken sound, clutching her daughter's limp hand. "This isn't natural."
Amelia had been watching in silence, her sharp eyes assessing. Now, she moved closer, pressing her palm lightly over Nyma's belly. The moment she did, her brows furrowed.
Elara noticed. Her gaze snapped to Amelia. "The baby?"
Amelia swallowed hard, her hands feeling for something only she could sense. While her weathered hands trembled against Nyma's scorching skin. The heat radiating from the pregnant Luna's belly could have melted steel, yet beneath her palms—
A steady, stubborn heartbeat.
Then, finally, a breath of relief. " The pup is holding on, I guess Nyma's wolf is strong in protecting the kid," she murmured.
Elara choked back a sob, "Then why won't she wake? Lunara should heal Nyma first..."
Amelia shook her head, for any wolf their pup comes first, the old healer's eyes lifted to Nyma's face—to the silver tears now crystallizing on her lashes. "Because the battle isn't for the child's life." Her knuckles whitened as another wave of heat pulsed through Nyma's body. "It's for her soul."
"This isn't just a fever." Amelia's voice was grim.
Alpha Cedric halted mid-step, his hands clenching at his sides. "What do you mean?"
He should have been at the training grounds by now, overseeing the pack's warriors, ensuring their borders remained secure. But his daughter—his only daughter—lay unconscious, burning up with something they couldn't name. Until she delivered the royal heir, her well-being was their utmost responsibility. If anything happened to her… if the pup was lost…
The Lycans wouldn't just be displeased. They would be out for blood.
Amelia hesitated. "It feels like…" She trailed off, inhaling deeply. When she spoke again, her voice was low. "Like something is fighting her from the inside."
Elara stiffened. "You mean the baby?"
Everyone's heart plunged.
Amelia's eyes met hers, unreadable. "It's possible that her body is reacting to something unnatural. Something forced."
The room fell silent.
Cedric's growl shook the walls. "You think this is someone's doing?"
"I don't know." Amelia shook her head. "But this fever—it's not normal. It's not a sickness. It's a reaction."
Nyma whimpered softly, her face twisting in distress, her body caught between fire and ice.
Elara grabbed a cloth, wringing it out with trembling hands. "Then we need to break it. Now."
Raina nodded. "I'll make a stronger tincture." She darted toward the healer's supply room.
Kael stayed beside Nyma, his jaw tight, watching as his sister fought an unseen battle.
But Nyma only knew the truth.
This wasn't just sickness.
This was reckoning. Perhaps it was the Moon Goddess's Price for wrecking a mate bond and defying a Lycan Alpha.
In the haze of delirium, Moon Goddess Cynthia came to her—not as a voice, but as a presence, vast and ancient.
Nyma's body convulsed as the divine vision swallowed her whole. Moon Goddess Cynthia's presence filled every burning cell, every screaming nerve ending. The scent of crushed moonflowers and blood filled her nostrils as the deity leaned closer.
"You would break the laws of moon and mate?" the goddess whispered through the fever-dream. "You would choose another?"
Nyma's body arched off the bed as another wave of heat tore through her. Somewhere in the room, her mother screamed for ice.
"He chose first," Nyma snarled in her mind. "Again and again."
A pause. Then—Laughter, dark as a starless night.
"Then prove it."
The vision shifted: A silver dagger resting on an altar. Her brother Kael's mate Raina weeping over an empty cradle, The stolen twin glowing with unnatural light in Lira's arms.
"Break one bond," Cynthia whispered, "and you must forge another. The scales must balance."
Nyma's back arched as fresh agony ripped through her. The baby kicked violently, as if sensing the cosmic crossroads they'd reached.
"Then the vision shifted again: A man's silhouette, backlit by moonlight. The promise of strong hands. A loyal heart. A love earned, not stolen.
Nyma's fever spiked higher.
A new figure emerged from the celestial mist—tall, broad-shouldered, his lupine silhouette haloed by moonlight. Not Adrain. Never Adrain again.
And a stranger's energy pulsed against Nyma's fevered skin: Strength in the way his hands remained open, not clenched like Adrain's fists. Devotion in the unbroken circle of his scent—no traces of other females. Vulnerability in the fresh mating mark on his neck, still awaiting its counterpart.
"Him?" Nyma gasped as fresh fire raced through her veins. "Who is he?"
Cynthia's laughter made Nyma's teeth vibrate. "Prove you can choose and be what he never did."