BloodMoon: Captivated by the Forbidden Lycan Alpha
Chapter 302: QADIRA AND ROLAN

Chapter 302: QADIRA AND ROLAN

"Some secrets are guarded not with swords, but with silence, stone, and the fierce love that binds blood to fate."

The air was sharp with pine and stone as I stepped onto the path leading into the heart of Ragar Mountain. Night had fallen fully now, and the stars above the peaks shimmered like scattered silver, cold and brilliant. But the moment my boots touched the carved stone trail, I felt him like a thread tugging at the centre of me, guiding me forward.

Rolan stood at the mountain’s entrance, shadowed in the moon’s pale light, his golden eyes glowing like embers in the dark. My breath caught at seeing him tall and still, like he was part of the mountain itself. But those eyes softened when they landed on me, and every inch of distance I had travelled melted into nothing.

A smile pulled at my lips. "You felt me coming."

"I always do." His voice rumbled low and warm, stirring something deep in my chest. "You’ve never needed to knock to be let back into my bones."

Gods. I had missed that voice. That feeling, and before I could answer, he crossed the space between us and swept me into his arms. I did not resist, did not want to. I collapsed into him like a sigh, like gravity itself had been waiting for him to catch me. His mouth found mine in an instant, hot and urgent, and I kissed him back with every piece of me that had ached in his absence.

He tasted like fire and wild earth, like the safest place I had ever known.

"I missed you," I whispered, pulling back just enough to breathe him in.

He pressed his forehead to mine, the scrape of his stubble delicious against my skin. "Then don’t stay away so long."

"I had to warn Freyr. The child..." I hesitated. "It changes everything."

His eyes darkened for a moment, unreadable, but he did not push—not yet. Instead, he kissed me again, slower this time, like a vow. Then, without warning, he bent and lifted me into his arms, cradling me with that effortless strength I had never stopped loving.

I laughed softly against his throat. "Rolan, I can walk."

"I know." His arms tightened around me, and his voice dropped to a reverent murmur. "But I want to carry you."

He started up the winding path into the mountain, the crystal lights embedded in the stone casting a soft glow across the tunnel walls. The air grew warmer as we moved deeper, and I curled against his chest, letting myself listen to the steady, familiar rhythm of his heartbeat.

"You always know how to welcome me home," I murmured.

His lips brushed the top of my head. "Because wherever you are, Qadira, that’s where home begins."

And with those words, I let go of everything else, the war, the warnings, even the worry, and let myself fall into him again.

Rolan carried me in silence through the winding corridors of Ragar Mountain, past ancient stone walls veined with glowing minerals, past the guard posts and council chambers and quiet alcoves carved centuries before us. He did not stop, did not speak. He just held me close, like I was something fragile he had not realized he had missed until he had me back in his arms.

When we reached our home hidden deep within the heart of the mountain, behind a thick oak door etched with runes only we could read, he finally set me down. But even then, his hands did not leave me. I looked around and smiled. The warm amber light from the hearth flickered across the polished stone floor. Pelts lined the edges of the room, softening the strength of the cavern walls. Our bed, carved into a natural ledge of the mountain, waited with thick blankets and the scent of pinewood still clinging to the furs. I turned in his arms and reached up to cup his jaw, my fingers brushing the scar that crossed his cheekbone, the one he got when we fought the creatures in Bay Shifter Beach. "You don’t need to wait anymore."

His mouth captured mine again, no longer urgent, but slow. Devouring. His hands slid over my waist, up my spine, memorizing what he already knew. I melted into him, letting myself feel every press, every breath, every promise sealed between our lips. We undressed without ceremony, shedding more than clothes, stripping away the days apart, the silence, the burden of duty, war, and fear. When we lay down, his body curved around mine like we were made to fit. The tension in me unravelled under his touch, calloused hands that knew every inch of me and treated each one like something sacred.

"I never sleep as well when you’re gone," he murmured, lips brushing the shell of my ear.

"I never feel whole," I whispered back, my palm flat against his chest. "Until I am here. With you."

He pulled the blanket over us, tucking me against him. The mountain hummed faintly around us, quiet and alive. We lay tangled in each other, the rhythm of our breathing syncing like it always had, like it always would.

He kissed my shoulder. My neck. My temple. "You’re safe," he murmured, voice gravel-thick and low. "With me. Always."

And in the hush of that sacred space, buried deep within Ragar Mountain, I let the peace settle in. By the time I woke, the mountain was already humming with light. Not loud but just present like a whisper in my bones. The fire in the hearth had dwindled to a warm glow, casting golden shadows across the smooth stone walls of our home. I stretched beneath the furs, my skin still tingling from Rolan’s touch the night before. Even now, I could feel him before I saw him—his warmth behind me, the weight of his arm resting over my hip, and the steady rhythm of his breathing.

"You made it back just before the mountain sealed for nightfall," Rolan murmured, his voice still rough with sleep. "I could feel your pulse in the stone."

I smiled softly, turning to face him. "I didn’t want to wake you."

He opened his eyes, those sharp, silver-gold eyes that missed nothing. "You went to see Freyr. Hanka Island."

I nodded. "I had to. Something has been stirring in the threads around him since the eclipse. I could not ignore it."

He exhaled slowly, his hand sliding along my waist. "And?"

I studied his face, the way his expression tightened even as his touch stayed gentle. He knew it was not just a sibling visit, and he had known it before I ever left.

"He’s pregnant, Rolan." His eyes sharpened, but he did not speak right away. "I felt it the moment I stepped onto the island," I continued. "His aura... it is no longer singular. It has layered now his, and something smaller, but strong. The child is real."

Rolan sat up slowly, propping himself against the carved headboard. The furs slipped to his waist, but he did not seem to notice. "A vampire and a Lycan... creating life."

"Unheard of," I agreed. "But it is happening. Tor confirmed it before I arrived. They both felt the heartbeat."

"And the mountain?" he asked, his tone shifting slightly, cautious now.

I paused. "It did not speak in words, but it pressed into me. A warning. Or a reminder. The heartbeat of this mountain echoed when I touched the stone outside their building site. It was telling me not to share the news, not yet."

Rolan’s jaw tightened, his gaze dropping to the furs between us. "Why?"

"Evil will never be destroyed. If they sense something like this... a child born of two rare bloodlines... they will come for it."

He looked at me, jaw set with a protective fierceness that stirred something deep in my chest. "You told Freyr?"

"I did. I made him promise to tell no one else, and the secret remains with him and Tor."

Rolan reached for my hand, lacing our fingers together, and his thumb brushed over my knuckles. "Then we will guard them both from afar, and silently. I will assign a pair of scouts to patrol the waters near Hanka."

"I knew you would." I leaned in, resting my head against his shoulder. "They need time alone to build their lives.

Rolan kissed the top of my head, lingering there for a moment. "Then we give them something soft to hold on to."

The mountain hummed again, low, steady thrum beneath the floor, like it agreed, and I closed my eyes, knowing that peace would prevail."

Hours later, Rolan and I walked in silence through the narrow stone corridor, descending deeper into Ragar’s pulse. I did not need torches. The walls glowed faintly with the bioluminescent veins of moon root that twined through the rock, soft white and silver light tracing our path like ancestral threads. He walked slightly ahead, not out of dominance, but instinct. Protectiveness lived in his bones, the same way duty lived in mine. I felt his energy shift the moment we reached the mouth of the haven cave, vast, open, and still as a sleeping god’s breath.

The Lycan haven was not carved by claw or blade but formed by the mountain itself. A sacred place, one of the few natural spaces where the soul of Ragar could speak without barrier.

The air here thrummed with life, and Rolan slowed and reached for my hand as we crossed the threshold. The moment our feet touched the haven’s heart, the ground pulsed beneath our soles a deep, resonant thrum that was not sound so much as sensation. My breath caught.

Then the Guardian appeared, and he rose from the earth as he always did, cloaked in stone and spirit, humanoid in shape but bound to the mountain’s will. His eyes were void less light, ancient and endless. When he spoke, his voice was layered with every echo Ragar had ever known.

"Qadira, child of the blood-marked, mountain-bonded, you acted swiftly."

I bowed my head, releasing Rolan’s hand. "Freyr had to be told. I feared delay might draw a shadow."

The Guardian’s form shifted slightly, rippling like smoke beneath stone. "Your fear was founded. The ripple from his womb echoed beyond these lands. There are ears even in the wind."

Beside me, Rolan straightened, muscles tense. "What do you need from us?"

The Guardian turned his gaze upon him, not coldly, but with solemn weight. "Silence, for now. And vigilance. "

I shivered. The mountain had never been so direct before.

"You must guard the child’s existence. Its spirit is old, though unborn. It carries flame from both night and fang... It will burn or bless this land depending on how it enters the world."

Rolan’s grip tightened around mine again. I met the Guardian’s gaze and asked, quietly, "Do you know if it will survive?"

The pause was long. Then: "If love surrounds it more fiercely than hate hunts it, yes."

A soft wind moved through the haven—impossible, given we were deep underground. But the mountain breathed, and we felt it. A calm after the warning.

We stood there, the three of us Alpha, Vampire, and Guardian in the heart of stone, listening as the mountain’s hum deepened. There were no words for the rhythm. Only knowing. And in that knowing, I understood what must come next. We would guard this secret not as warriors, but as kin. And when the time came, we would fight the old darkness again, not just for Freyr, but for what grew quietly within him.