Rogan
One week.
It’s been one week since Jenna showed up and rocked my world, turning my life upside down. Everything I thought I knew was all a lie, fabricated by magic and now that I know who I am, I almost wish I didn’t. But that would mean I never would have been with Jenna, my Queen. I hardly know her and now I may never have the chance. I fucking bit her during sex. I didn’t mean to, but my wolf demanded it—he craved it, needing to claim her as one of us.
I’ve never done this before—turned anyone. I only know what I was taught as a child. No one prepared me to watch a woman I am supposed to cherish and guard with my life lay in my bed in agony. I’ve been trying to contact our world, but nothing is working.
I don’t want to leave her, but I need to find a witch, a powerful one to save her before it is too late. Lifting the gauze, I check her wound. It isn’t healing. Her weak fingers reach for mine.
“I forgive you, Rogan,” she whispers, hoarsely.
Fuck. This is tearing me apart inside.
My club is suspicious. I hear the whispers. Some think I killed her while others think I am torturing her slowly but are too damn scared to do a damn thing about it. They are partly right. What I did is bringing her a slow goddamned death.
Just when I am about to give up the mirror hanging over my dresser starts to ripple, and a woman appears before me. A face I recall from when I was boy. Narinda.
“You haven’t much time, your Highness. Your venom has poisoned her, but your child grows stronger inside her. Your wolf can save her, give her your blood. She and the child need it.”
I stare back at my Queen as she coughs up her own blood.
When I turn back to the mirror the Seer, Narinda has disappeared.
Jenna came here thinking she would find her happily ever after. However, ours is a work in progress.
Jenna
4 years later
I tossed and turned all night, having visions of three young wolves running through the forest under the crest of the four red moons.
Rogan has been by my side throughout my difficult pregnancy.
The man has refused to leave me even though as King there are duties he must attend to.
“Rogan,” I call out, softly but there’s no answer. Maybe he has finally gone to meet with the council. When we returned home, I never thought I would live to see this day. However, Narinda, with the help of Ginny, was able to save me.
It turned out Ginny was a witch who had been sent to protect and guide me during my time at Blackwell Castle.
Saving me depleted all their magic, but they said my life and my rule was worth the sacrifice. Such sacrifice and magic comes at a price. A sacrifice that ended their lives. The price of a warlock from the other world helping Rogan get me back to Wolfenstein to save my life was giving him and his wife our first born. I hated Rogan at first for making that choice when I realized what he had done, but he said he couldn’t let me die. Despite my heartbreak and loss, Narinda had seen my future—a happy one, full of laughter, the laughter of mine and Rogan’s children.
When Narinda and Ginny used their magic to save me I inherited their powers during my change. Not even Rogan knows my full power. I can’t have my King feeling inferior to his Queen. The visions come and go although sometimes they do change. The choices we make can alter our futures. Had I died, Rogan would have stayed in his other world and never married. But here with me—we will have three children. Triplets. Our own little pack.
A son, Fergus, named for the servant who helped me escape.
Two daughters, Gerinda, named for Ginny and Narinda. And Raellow, named for Rogan’s parents.
My other child, my sweet and handsome Kamali North Wolfe, named for my family. A son who thrives and grows stronger every day. I watch him often when Rogan is sleeping through my looking glass. I know the guilt of giving up his firstborn son eats away at him, but our child will come to us one day. I have seen it in a dream.
A cold cloth is pressed to my forehead. “Shhh, my love. You need your rest.”
Rogan presses his lips to mine and I open my eyes. “No, it’s time.”
“Are you sure?”
I smile at him even though I feel as though I am being ripped apart from the inside out.
“Shall I send for the healer and the Priest?”
I shake my head. I want it to be just us. I know how dangerous that sounds but I have already foreseen this day, I know it will hurt but it will end well.
“As my Queen wishes,” he says, offering me a smile of his own but I can see the worry etched in his forehead.
“Don’t worry. Just get the bath ready.”
Rogan calls for the servants to fill the tub as I requested. I don't know how I know but I simply do. I will birth my babes in water.
Sitting up in the bed, I watch as they go about their duties, as if this one task is the greatest, most important thing they will ever do.
Our people love us because we rule with a firm but just hand.
Once the tub has been prepared and all the water has been brought up from the kitchen, everyone clears the room, leaving me with my King.
Rogan helps me from the bed, as my stomach has stretched so large you can see little feet sticking out of my skin, and I can hardly walk.
Every night Rogan attempts to count their toes.
I rub my swollen and stretched skin one final time before disrobing and easing my way down into the water. The steam rises off my skin and some blood fills the water.
Rogan’s wolf howls, smelling the blood, but he need not worry.
As the first contraction hits, I grip the tub, my claws come out, scratching the metal. I will need the strength of my werewolf to get me through this birth.
Rogan’s fangs pop out, the scent of the blood has his wolf wanting to protect me and our babies.
“What can I do,” he growls.
I let out a cry in agony, as Gerinda makes her way into this world.
Reaching down between my legs I bring her up and out of the water pink and screaming.
Rogan holds out a clean cloth to wrap her in once he has cut her chord.
Raellow is born next, she isn’t as fussy as her sister.
Fergus is a bit more stubborn and takes some coaxing to get him out, but eventually he is brought into this world looking every bit like his older brother.
I shed a few tears every time I think of him, wishing my Kamali were here.
Later, lying in bed, my little pack is hungry. Fergus has had his fill and is nestled peacefully in his father’s arms, while I nurse his sisters. The pair already seems to be fighting as their little fists keep clashing and they are fussing something terrible. It is as though they are having a quarrel the rest of us can't understand.
Rogan leans over, careful not to disturb our babies and kisses my temple.
“I love you, my Queen. Thank you for not giving up on me. Thank you for giving me four beautiful children.”
“I love you, Rogan, and you’re welcome.”
Hearing him mention Kamali I know I must ease his heart and his mind.
After I have him put the triplets in their beds, I ask him to bring me my looking glass.
“You look radiant,” he says as he hands the silver gilded mirror to me.
“Do you think me so vain, my King?” I smile. “There is something you must see.”
I whisper an enchantment and wave my hand over the mirror.
“See for yourself.”
Rogan peers into the rippling reflection, watching in awe as my vision of Kamali returning home plays out.
Rogan stands on a grassy knoll north of the castle. His arms are outstretched as a young man aged one and five with hair that blazes like fire approaches him.
“Welcome home, my son,” Rogan calls out.
I take Rogan’s trembling hand in my own and kiss his knuckles.
“Kamali, will return to us, he’s coming home.”
This is our happily ever after.
The End