Chapter 14

"Any sign of him near the borders?" Darius's voice was a low growl, barely louder than the crackling fire in the study, but it filled the room with tension. Weeks had passed since the rogue scout's capture, since Elena's chilling note. The air in Blackthorn Manor felt permanently charged.

Lucien sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Patrols are reporting nothing concrete, Alpha. No direct attacks. But the feeling... it's still there. Like they're watching. Waiting."

"He is watching," Darius stated, his golden eyes fixed on the map spread across the desk. "The scout confirmed it. Fenrir wants her." His gaze flicked to Ariana, sitting quietly on a nearby sofa, a hand resting protectively on her slightly rounded belly. "Not just the potential Luna. Not just the mother of the heir. Her. He called her... the Key."

Ariana shivered despite the warmth of the fire. The Key. The phrase from the scout's interrogation, relayed by Lucien, had haunted her. And the 'scent of the Old Blood'... it wasn't just power in ancient texts. It felt terrifyingly real now.

"What does 'Old Blood' even mean?" Ariana asked, her voice quiet. "Is it... is it something to do with my family? With the things we read in the library?"

Darius walked over to her, kneeling by the sofa, his large hand covering hers on her belly. "We're trying to understand. It's not just about lineage, Ariana. It's... something he senses. Something specific to you." His possessiveness was a physical force, an invisible shield around her. "He wants you, because he believes you are the source of that power. The Key to unlocking it." His voice was rough, his eyes blazing with fierce protectiveness. "He'll have to go through me first. Through every single wolf in this pack."

"He wants her alone," Lucien added grimly from the desk. "That's what the scout kept repeating."

"He won't get her," Darius vowed, his voice absolute. His world had shrunk to the perimeter of the manor, to the space immediately surrounding Ariana.

A few days later, Darius insisted they visit the Blackthorn family hospital for a check-up on the baby. The modern facility felt like a sanctuary from the manor's tension.

"Everything looks perfect, Alpha," Dr. Sharma said, showing them the ultrasound image. The tiny life growing within Ariana was clear on the screen. "The baby is strong and healthy."

"And Luna Ariana?" Darius asked, his voice laced with concern. "She's been feeling... different."

Dr. Sharma turned to Ariana. "Any specific symptoms, Luna? Nausea? Fatigue? Anything unusual?"

Ariana hesitated. The nausea had lessened, the crushing fatigue was gone, but there was something else. "A strange energy," she confessed. "Under my skin. And... it's like I can feel things. The manor itself. The land outside." She rubbed her arm. "My skin feels... I don't know. Different." She didn't mention the terrifying connection she felt to the 'Old Blood' or the hunter's scent she sometimes imagined on the wind.

Dr. Sharma made a note. "It could be hormonal changes, Luna. Or perhaps... a heightened sensitivity due to your unique circumstances." She didn't dismiss it, but she offered a practical explanation.

"Unique circumstances," Darius repeated, his jaw tight. "Her lineage. Is this connected, Doctor? This energy? This... feeling?"

Dr. Sharma paused. "The ancient texts Lucien brought... the theories of dormant abilities tied to specific bloodlines... it is... intriguing. We know the poison was suppressing something. It's possible, now that the poison is clearing, and with the life growing inside you, Luna, that whatever was suppressed is beginning to awaken. It's just a theory, Alpha. We have no medical precedent."

"No medical precedent for dormant wolf abilities in humans," Darius finished flatly. He looked at Ariana, his golden eyes filled with a mixture of wonder, concern, and increased possessiveness. This awakening power, this change... it made her even more of a target.

"It feels... big," Ariana admitted, leaning into Darius, her voice low. "And dangerous."

"It is big," Darius agreed, his hand tightening on hers. "And yes, it's dangerous. But it's part of you. And we will face it. Together."

Back at the manor, the tension hadn't lifted. Elena, still confined, overheard whispers from guards changing shifts. Names. Fenrir. Scout. Key. She pieced it together.

"Fenrir wants her," Elena whispered to herself, pacing her room like a caged animal. "He wants Ariana. Not just the baby. Her."

A desperate, dangerous idea sparked. The hidden service tunnel. Old, forgotten. It led outside the grounds.

"They won't keep me here," she muttered, her eyes gleaming with a twisted resolve. "Darius despises me. Vincent has no use for me now. But Fenrir... the rogues... they're outside his control."

Her desperate, twisted mind fixated on the idea. If she could reach them... use her status as the Alpha's rejected intended mate... perhaps even leverage the twin connection to Ariana...

"They might see me as an asset," she reasoned, clutching her arms to herself. "A way to get to Darius. A way to hit him where it hurts. To take what he values." Freedom with rogues was better than waiting for Darius's judgment. Her mind twisted the peril into opportunity. Dominic, or at least Drake, might welcome her. They wanted Ariana. Maybe they'd see her as the alternative Key. The valued one, finally.

Outside, in the dark, silent woods surrounding Blackthorn Manor, Dominic Fenrir stood still, breathing in the night air. He didn't need patrols or whispered reports to tell him. He could feel it in the very air.

"The scent," Dominic murmured, his grizzled face turned towards the manor. "The Old Blood in her is getting stronger, woooow."

He didn't care about prophecies anymore. Not really. Not in the abstract. His obsession had a face. And a scent.

"Her powers are waking up," he breathed, a cruel smile spreading across his face. His obsession wasn't about power in some ancient text; it was about the woman who carried that power, the woman who emitted that ancient, compelling scent. He wanted her. Alone. The source. The one who held the key to something he craved more than territory, more than dominance. He wanted her.

"Soon," he whispered to the darkness. "Soon, you will be mine, Soon." The storm wasn't just gathering. It was focused. And its target was Ariana.