Chapter 158

*~Cayden’s POV~*
We had been out there for quite a while now, and I still hadn’t figured out what was wrong with the clouds—or what exactly he had been trying to show us. The fact that it involved my brother, my wife, and my babies made it clear this was not something to take lightly.
A man approached and placed a steadying hand on my shoulder.
“Perhaps, brother, this is just an omen from the Moon Goddess—a blessing for your children.”
That would have made sense if it had only happened to Hazel and the twins. But me? Why had it reached me as well?
“That would have made sense,” I said aloud, “if it only happened to Hazel and the babies. But me? Why would I be affected too?”
He considered my words, reasoning with them, and finally let out a deep breath. “I don’t know, brother. But we can’t just stay here all day. We need to leave. We need to go back to Hazel. You must know how terrified she is right now. And tomorrow is also your children’s naming ceremony. The entire pack will be there to witness it. They’ll see their future heirs.” His voice softened. “So please, let’s go back.”
I sighed. He was right. At last, I listened. I stretched my hand toward Leon, a signal, and then everyone turned back. We had been standing right at the border of New Orleans, just in case it was another creature trying to break in.
When we returned, Father and Mother were the first to meet me as I entered the High House.
“Anything?” Father asked immediately.
I shook my head. “No.”
He let out a heavy sigh. “This is bad. This is the first time the pack has ever witnessed something like this. Ever since my turn, nothing like this has happened—not even in our forefathers’ time.” Original content can be found at.net
“Then what is it?” I asked quietly.
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
Mother spoke up then, her tone softer but still commanding. “Well, let’s just forget about it. There are no signs of danger, no evil approaching. Let’s focus on tomorrow—it is my grandchildren’s ceremony. I can’t wait to see what I’ll call my grandbabies.” Her lips curved into a sweet smile before she turned to the maids, instructing them to continue with the preparations.
Father stepped closer, his hand resting on my shoulder. “Don’t stop looking, son. That is not ordinary. But for now—congratulations in advance. Tomorrow you’ll officially be an Alpha with heirs. I’m proud of you.” He pulled me into a firm embrace, then left.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Caspian approaching. He came up beside me, his expression unreadable.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Enjoy your day tomorrow. I’ll keep my eyes open.”
I nodded, grateful for his words. He walked away soon after, leaving me with my thoughts.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow was the naming ceremony for my children, and I hadn’t prepared a single thing. Not the clothes I would wear, not even a gift for my wife. And wasn’t that what I should do? Hazel and are about to stand as parents together. We can’t continue with these awkward silences and unspoken stuffs between us.
My mind wandered suddenly to a red dress. The red dress I always noticed at the store whenever I passed by. I had once thought it would look beautiful on my mother, but now… now I realized red would suit hazel perfectly.
Yes. That would be it.
I called for Leon and quietly made arrangements. He would get the red dress. Hazel..:would wear it. And she would look stunning in it. At least, I believed she would.
After Leon left, I strode back to my chamber. The moment I stepped inside, a strange airy feeling crept into my chest—unsettling, as though the room itself were breathing. Or perhaps… it wasn’t the room at all. Perhaps it was a figure.
I turned sharply, and from the corner of my eye, I caught the shape of a shadow. My peripheral vision wasn’t sharp enough to pin it down, but every nerve in my body tensed as I tried to focus. Someone was here. I could feel it.
Ragnar stirred inside me, more restless and active than ever, urging me to remain alert. We both fell silent, our breaths caught, waiting. Then, as my eyes flicked toward the mirror across the chamber, I saw it.
A figure.
He was tall, shirtless, broad-shouldered, nearly as muscular as I was. His skin was traced with tattoos, curling across his torso and arms like ancient markings alive with their own energy. His hair—long, raven-black—spilled across his face, shadowing sharp green eyes that pierced through the glass like twin blades.
And on his lips lingered the faintest trace of a smile. A smirk.
I spun around instantly. The space behind me was empty.
My pulse hammered. I whipped my gaze back to the mirror—he was still there.
“Who are you?” I demanded, claws half-drawn.
His voice came low and cold, vibrating through the chamber though his lips barely moved.
“You have something that belongs to me. Watch yourself, because I’m coming to take it.”
Before I could react, before Ragnar could even snarl, the figure vanished from the mirror—gone as if he had never existed.
I rushed out of the chamber, scanning the hall, searching for any sign that someone had fled. But no—the air was still, the corridor empty. It wasn’t that he had run. He had disappeared.
I clenched my fists. My breaths came harsh and uneven. What the hell was that?
I wasn’t imagining it. I knew I wasn’t. The figure was real. And whoever he was, he was connected—connected to the clouds, to my brother, to Hazel, to my children.
But what did he mean—I have something that belongs to him?
My mind churned with questions. Who could he be? Could it be Cyrius?
No. Impossible. Cyrius was buried deep beneath the earth. He couldn’t return.
So who, then? Who the hell was that?