The Alpha's Unwanted Bride

Chapter 674: THE DISTANT LANDS

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 me. I knew its smells, its sounds, the way it breathed.

The earth had become 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 somehow 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 came with the weight inside me.

My hand drifted to my stomach again, resting on the curve pressing forward.

The baby kicked light, like a flutter but it still startled me every time.

Otto slowed his horse beside mine.

"You okay?" he asked, voice soft with concern.

I nodded automatically. "Fine."

He gave me that look, the one where he didn’t believe me 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.

Sometimes, 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 time.

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. Sometimes it made my throat ache.

He carried things before I could reach for them.

Helped me 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 meant 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 me slowly, shakily.

These lands...

Somewhere here or beyond here my mother’s people lived.

My real family.

My heritage.

My answers.

For the first time 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 something to care about two dusty travelers in cloaks.

We entered the town.

Everything felt bigger up close.

Louder.

More alive.

Vendors shouted prices.

Women laughed under hanging lanterns.

Smiths hammered metal.

Healers sold herbs wrapped in cloth.

Bakers carried trays of steaming food that smelled like heaven.

Otto stayed close, his hand occasionally brushing my arm to guide me through the crowd.

"Let’s find somewhere 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 me.

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 smell of roasted meat and sweet wine filled my nose so quickly my stomach twisted not in sickness, but hunger.

Otto gestured for me 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 me, the tavern buzzed—

Men drinking loudly

Women shouting over dice

Wolves telling stories

A lute playing somewhere in the corner

But I could feel it.

Eyes.

On me.

Not unkind, just curious.

Soft stares. Whispers. Tilted heads.

A pregnant outsider always drew attention.

I sipped the glass of water placed before me 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 me for a moment, her head tilting, eyes narrowing with a strange, perceptive softness.

"You’re far from home," she murmured.

A jolt went through me.

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 mentioned 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 someone is running."

Her eyes flicked just once down to my stomach.

"And I can always tell when someone is hiding."