Jasmine’s POV
Two months can change a life.
Two months on the road can change a person.
Two months while pregnant...
can change everything.
The forest no longer felt endless to . I knew its slls, its sounds, the way it breathed.
The earth had beco familiar under our horses’ hooves, and the wind carried less fear than before. We had crossed rivers, towns, borders I’d never heard of, and sohow we were still moving, still running, still trying to reach the distant lands where all the answers waited.
But today I felt tired.
A different tired.
Not the exhaustion of running or fear or grief.
A deeper tiredness. A bone-deep heaviness that ca with the weight inside .
My hand drifted to my stomach again, resting on the curve pressing forward.
The baby kicked light, like a flutter but it still startled every ti.
Otto slowed his horse beside mine.
"You okay?" he asked, voice soft with concern.
I nodded automatically. "Fine."
He gave that look, the one where he didn’t believe but was too gentle to argue.
We kept riding.
The sun was dipping low, painting the mountains in orange light. My back ached in a dull, throbbing way, and my wrists hurt from holding the reins for too long. I shifted slightly on the saddle, but the heaviness of my stomach made it impossible to find real comfort.
Two months...
And already I was almost due.
It wasn’t like Thalira.
This pregnancy wasn’t slow or steady.
It raced.
Like the baby was in a hurry to reach the world.
Sotis, when I lay down at night and felt her—or him—move, I wondered if I would even make it to the distant lands in ti.
We had learned the rhythm of traveling:
only during the day
never at night
avoid towns too long
avoid questions even longer
rest whenever my body trembled or my breath grew shallow
Otto had been... gentle. Too gentle. Sotis it made my throat ache.
He carried things before I could reach for them.
Helped mount my horse.
Stopped every hour so I could breathe or drink water.
Even spoke to my stomach, whispering small things like, "You’re doing amazing," in a tone not ant for my ears.
I pretended not to hear him.
I pretended a lot of things.
As we turned up a slow hill, Otto suddenly gasped.
"There," he whispered, almost reverent. "Jasmine... look."
I lifted my head, breath catching.
Below us. spread across a wide valley was a pack.
A real, bustling, alive pack.
Smoke curled from chimneys. Streets twisted between houses of carved stone and dark wood. Wolves shifted and
unshifted walked the marketplaces.
Music drifted faintly through the wind. Children ran in circles chasing one another. Bright cloth hung from windows.
Life.
Vibrant and loud and unhidden.
My heart fluttered.
"Is that...?" My voice cracked.
Otto nodded. "We made it. The edge of the distant lands."
A breath I didn’t know I was holding left slowly, shakily.
These lands...
Sowhere here or beyond here my mother’s people lived.
My real family.
My heritage.
My answers.
For the first ti in months, hope didn’t hurt.
We descended the hill carefully, our horses weaving through the small path toward the gates. The guards barely looked at us—too busy arguing over sothing to care about two dusty travelers in cloaks.
We entered the town.
Everything felt bigger up close.
Louder.
More alive.
Vendors shouted prices.
Won laughed under hanging lanterns.
Smiths hamred tal.
Healers sold herbs wrapped in cloth.
Bakers carried trays of steaming food that slled like heaven.
Otto stayed close, his hand occasionally brushing my arm to guide through the crowd.
"Let’s find sowhere to rest," he murmured. "It’s been a long day and you shouldn’t be walking too long."
I nodded, grateful for once that he didn’t argue with .
We found an inn at the center of town. It was a tall building with warm lights and noisy laughter spilling from its windows. A sign hung crookedly above the door reading:
THE DRAGON’S CUP
Inside, the sll of roasted at and sweet wine filled my nose so quickly my stomach twisted not in sickness, but hunger.
Otto gestured for to sit at the bar while he arranged a room.
I lowered myself onto the stool, one hand supporting my stomach discreetly under my cloak. Around , the tavern buzzed—
n drinking loudly
Won shouting over dice
Wolves telling stories
A lute playing sowhere in the corner
But I could feel it.
Eyes.
On .
Not unkind, just curious.
Soft stares. Whispers. Tilted heads.
A pregnant outsider always drew attention.
I sipped the glass of water placed before and tried to shrink into my coat.
"Ignore them."
I looked up.
The bartender stood across the counter, wiping a cup with a cloth. She was... beautiful. Unfairly beautiful.
Olive skin glowing under the lantern light.
Dark eyes lined thick with kohl.
Full lips.
Hoop earrings that brushed her jaw.
Wavy black hair pulled into a loose bun, strands curling freely around her face like silk.
I blinked at her, stunned.
"Sorry?" I whispered.
She smirked slightly. "I said ignore them. The staring. They haven’t seen an outsider in a while."
"Oh." I swallowed. "I... didn’t realize."
"They’re harmless," she added, flipping a cup upside down. "Curious, but harmless."
I nodded awkwardly and took another sip of water.
She watched for a mont, her head tilting, eyes narrowing with a strange, perceptive softness.
"You’re far from ho," she murmured.
A jolt went through .
My cloak was thick. Heavy. Long enough to hide my stomach. I had walked in quietly, kept my head down. I hadn’t spoken loudly or ntioned where I was from.
"How...?" I breathed.
She smiled slow, knowing, far too aware.
"Oh honey," she said, leaning closer, voice dropping into a whisper.
"I can always tell when soone is running."
Her eyes flicked just once down to my stomach.
"And I can always tell when soone is hiding."
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