CHAPTER 4

{9 months later}

= Shekinah's POV=

Pain tears through me like a merciless storm.

I'm alone in my former home, and there's no one here to help, not that anyone ever helped me when I needed it before. My cries of agony echo off the walls as I realize I'm about to give birth, and there's no escape from this excruciating reality.

I'm terrified, helpless, and in unimaginable pain.

As the contractions intensify, I find myself on the cold, hard floor. There's no time and no one to call for help. My body knows what to do, and I'm forced to rely on my own instincts. It's painful, raw, and I can hardly breathe as the first baby makes its entrance into the world.

The cries of my child are both beautiful and haunting. I slowly realise the responsibility that's now mine

I'm overwhelmed with relief, love, and fear.

I don't have the luxury of basking in the moment. The second baby is coming, and the pain is relentless. My body is drenched in sweat, and every push feels like an eternity. But I can't give up; I have to bring my children into this world. The room is filled with their cries as they take their first breaths, and I can't help but feel an intense love and protectiveness for them.

I'm exhausted but something drives me.

I don't have the luxury of resting. Fear grips me as I hear commotion outside my home. I look through the window and see them – Almando's men, his loyal dogs. They're searching for me.

They've been stalking me for the past nine months after I left him without a trace. I know he could've easily come to drag me back, but this time he didn't. He only sent spies to watch my every move from the distance. I guess they go back to report to him about my life updates on a daily basis. It's the reason I became more secluded in here and tried to hide my pregnancy from their watchful eyes and the rest of the pack. Their judgement on my existence would only worsen. I had heard my landlord died and his eldest son never came to check up on my house. It became an abandoned place but it's been my shelter for the past months. I don't even know how I've been able to survive but I have.

Panic wells up inside me as I realize they're closing in, and there's no time to waste. I need to get my children to safety, away from this community that's brought me so much pain.

I'm frantic.

Gently placing my twins in a small crib, I take a deep breath and begin to clean up. I rinse my hands in a basin of water, feeling the cool liquid wash away the evidence of the birthing process. My trembling hands work quickly but with tenderness as I wipe the sweat from my brow, wipe my babies' bodies and my legs of all the blood. There's no umbilical cord.

I grimace. Why is there no…

I can't think of that. I try to compose myself but also hurry up. I glance around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings that I am about to leave behind. I know I have to protect my twins.

With trembling hands, I gather my newborn twins, wrapping them in whatever woolly cloth I can find. I try to be as quiet as possible, fearful that any sound might alert Almando's men to my escape. My heart is heavy with worry, not just for my own life, but for the innocent lives I now hold in my arms. I need to protect them, and I need to protect myself.

I'm a mother now, and that responsibility is weighing on me.

My phone buzzes incessantly, and I check it as I make my way to the backdoor. There are hundreds of missed calls and texts, all from Almando. One stands out to me; "You've had your fun, Shekinah. Come home, now."

Fun? Fun?! Living in this rotting house, all by myself with my pregnancy pains and meager food, and he calls it fun? I'm tempted to dial back and shout obscenities into his ears but I get myself together.

He can keep on searching for me but I won't risk being discovered. With tears in my eyes, I turn off the phone and leave it behind. I can't afford any distractions. The night is my only ally, and I have to use it to my advantage.

I'm torn, but I have to keep moving.

I slip out the backdoor, clutching my children tightly to my chest, and I begin to run. It's dark, and I can hardly see where I'm going, but the adrenaline keeps me going. I have to find safety. I have to find a place where I can give my children a chance at life, away from the horrors of my past.

As I disappear into the night, his face flashes again in my mind. I won't let him find us. I won't let him ruin my new hope.

I will protect my children at any cost, even if it means leaving everything behind, not like I had anything to begin with.

+++++

I'm standing at the border with a group of desperate werewolves, all of us anxious and uncertain. The concern on their faces mirrors my own. We're about to cross into unknown territory, away from the life we once knew. None of us say anything but we seem to communicate by just looking at one another.

We have to escape the border security officials who may see us as spies. They're not supposed to shoot, but we can't count on that.

Tension hangs heavy in the air, and fear is all we can feel at the moment.

I then feel a wrinkled hand hold my hand I'm using to clutch my babies to my breasts. I turn and my eyes land on an old woman with a meek smile on her face.

"Draena'an, deyrius an draena'an atesk." She says with the sparse teeth in her mouth.

It sounds like Anverik, the unofficial language of the Menorah Pack which is only spoken by the generation before us and Elders. So, I don't understand a thing.

A younger woman holds the lady's shoulder, bends courtly to me to apologise in the lady's stead then leads her away from me.

I'm still pondering on that when suddenly, a man is pushed out by some other men that have been arguing even before I joined them.

The border security officials spot him and start shooting. Panic fills the night as they mistake us for threats. We scatter in all directions and start to run for our lives. I clutch my children close, my heart pounding, as the bullets whiz by.

The world around me is chaos, and I'm terrified for my children.

In my desperation, I shift into my werewolf form and carry my kids, running as fast as I can. I continue to push my body to the limit. The border is in sight, and I can see freedom just beyond it. The others who were with me are falling, and their cries haunt me, but I can't stop. I have to make it. I glance at a direction and the old lady who I saw just a few seconds ago is lying on her pool of blood, her eyes still staring and lips still smiling at her.

My whole body is in pain but I push through it for the sake of my children.

I cross the border, almost in, and far gone. But a sudden, searing pain in my leg makes me stumble. I've been shot.

I drop to the ground.

Silence.

I feel liquid oozing out of my leg.

I blink through the agony and see a group of people who are dressed strangely approaching me. They speak in a language I recognize – Sinain. I feel they're here to help.

"Aha t'baarya si-" "She looks like the-"

"Laahortaya'! Ii, an ii, siisalaat ix." "Do not speak! You, and you, help her up."

"Layaan, be'ahsinin draena. Da layaanalayin vayorin si ahsin." "Sleep, little goddess. You are safe now."

I'm relieved, but the pain is still there, throbbing in my leg.

I slowly transform back into my human form with my children still in my arms and the Sinain people surrounding me watch as I do so. They have a regal air about them, and their clothing is unlike anything I've seen. Their eyes, though, hold kindness and curiosity as some study me while some others bend to me.

I'm in awe of these people who have saved us.

~ In a blink of an eye ~

I wake up in a different place. My head pangs as my eyes flutter open. I'm still surrounded by the Sinain people. They're caring for my wound. Their clothing… it's so colorful and detailed, with each piece resembling a woven story from their past… the markings on their faces and bodies; some are faces, some are animals, some are scenes. Each of them look like a living canvas of history drawn in vibrant patterns and colors that I can't take my eyes off of.

It's clear I'm in the Sinai Pack, a place I never thought I'd find myself.

I'm in disbelief, but also filled with gratitude for this second chance at life. I nearly escaped death at the border.

"I'm in the Sinai Pack," I say, the words escaping my lips as I finally understand where I am. The ones tending to my injury stop and stare at me.

"Ha'shiin ii Siina! She's awake, mom! She's awake!" The littlest one who's holding a can of balm shouts excitedly and runs out, shouting the same thing.

But….where are my babies?