Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
My gaze locks with Scarlet’s. “Where did you find her?” My voice is quiet, but the edges are sharp as wolf claws. Tell me the truth.
Scarlet tugs the baby closer and meets my eyes. My brothers are watching, waiting, but right now, it’s me who needs answers.
“She was in the woods,” Finn says, his voice low. “Alone. Whimpering. But she didn’t look like this when we found her.”
I straighten, bracing for more. “What do you mean?”
Finn shifts uncomfortably, his hand scrubbing the back of his neck. “It was a wolf. Small. It shifted.”
The air cools around us. Even the dust motes seem to pause, suspended in light. Reed swears. I don’t move.
He said it.
Out loud.
In front of Scarlet.
The secret we’ve kept buried. The truth we’ve shielded Scarlet from since the first moment she stumbled into our world.
I stare at him, eyes wide, waiting for an explanation, but instead, he meets my gaze with grim finality.
My mind spins. Not because he spoke freely, though that’s a problem all on its own, but because what he’s saying is impossible.
Female.
My eyes drop back to the sleeping child, her fingers curled, her lips parted, totally at peace.
Females don’t shift.
Except sometimes… they do.
Rare cases. Freak occurrences. The kind of stories whispered at firesides, about one in a generation. Myths and legends. Worshipped and feared. Because a female shifter, if she lives, is a miracle.
“She smells of Aura,” Finn says. “The scent is weak, but it’s there.”
The name slices like a blade to the gut. “Aura? Gregory’s mate?”
“Yes.”
“No. She was—” I trail off. Everyone knows what happened to Aura. Gregory took her violently and claimed her before she was ready, binding her by force. She survived the bite, but not the aftermath. A rival pack attacked. She was violated and left for dead. At least, that was the version of the story that drifted from wolf to wolf. Then again, wolf whispers are notoriously unreliable.
I swallow the bile rising in my throat.
“She had a child?”
“She must have,” Finn says. “And left her here.”
My stomach knots.
“Abandoned her? This miracle child was left to die in the woods.”
Reed shifts closer, brows drawn low. “And Scarlet found her.”
I close my eyes. This isn’t our business. This isn’t our war. Gregory is a tyrant, but he’s an alpha with allies. Interfere with his pack, and we invite a blood feud. We’ve worked too hard to keep peace in Blackwood.
“This isn’t our business,” I say, because I have to say it. I have to be the one who sees the whole board, even if it means sacrificing the piece everyone else wants to protect.
Scarlet stands taller, the baby tucked to her chest like she’d fight to the death for her already.
“It’s my business now,” she says. Her tone is soft, but every syllable lands with determination.
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” I tell her, stepping back. “Wait here.”
I nod toward the door, and Reed and Finn follow, silent and tense. Scarlet’s voice trails behind us, low but firm enough to echo against the glass walls:
“We have to take her to the authorities. They’ll know what to do…”
I pull the door closed, filling the narrow hallway with our quiet tension.
Outside, the morning sun warms the dew from the leaves and grass. Reed shifts on his feet. Finn turns to me, anguish twisting his expression.
“We have four options,” I say, voice even but tense. “First, we take the cub back to the woods. Let nature decide her fate.”
Finn looks away. No one speaks.
“Second, we let Scarlet take her to the authorities,” I continue. “And risk exposing everything.”
“Third, we find the mother and return the child,” Reed says quietly. “But we risk getting involved with a volatile pack.”
I swallow hard and press on. “Fourth, we tell Scarlet the truth. About who we are. About what she’s seen. And pray she chooses to stay.”
Reed exhales sharply. “You’re seriously considering that?”
Finn’s voice is quiet. “We crossed a line with her last night. Made her trust us. Took things further than we should have. She gave herself to us. We showed her what life could be if she were our mate.”
“And we gave ourselves to her,” I say. “It’s already done. Now we owe her the truth.”
“But that doesn’t affect the child,” Reed says. “That child… It’s a miracle.”
“It is.”
I rub my stubbled jaw.
“What are we choosing here?” Reed asks. “The baby? Or the woman?”
I meet his eyes.
I close my eyes. My wolf claws at me from the inside, roaring to claim my mate and only protect what’s mine. But my heart, the human part, pushes back.
I open my eyes and square my shoulders. “We’re choosing both. You remember what Mom used to say about the goddess… that she had her ways and that questioning them was a sure way to turn fate away from your favor.”
“And Dad used to say that the goddess was wily and liked to test us, and it was up to us to use our free will to decide our own paths,” Reed reminds me.