Page 39 of Taken By The Wolves
“I need to go into the forest.” His hand is already on the door.
“What for?”
“Stay here.”
He’s out of the car before I can object, taking his keys with him and striding toward the tree line. I glance around, remembering the man who attacked me and how comfortable he was in the forest, and make a quick decision to follow Finn. I’m a sitting duck in a truck with the windows open.
I trot after Finn, crutch and feet crunching over the fallen leaves, adrenaline driving me, even though my ankle protests. “Finn—wait!” I call, voice echoing between the trees. He is already quite far ahead, but he halts abruptly, a glaze in his eyes that I’ve never seen before. Is he angry that I ignored him?
“I’m sorry. I was scared to wait in the car.” He steps out of the shade, and we make our way to a point between us. I’m about to apologize again when a soft whimper cuts through the air. It’s so pitiful that I stop mid-step.
“What’s that?” I ask, already stepping in the direction. Finn puts his arm out as if to stop me, but I’m close enough to see a small writhing shape under a looming, wide-trunked tree.
It’s furry and gray with a pointed muzzle. A lot like the wolf creature that came into the cabin last night. Does this baby belong to him?
“Is it a wolf?” I ask, as Finn moves level with me.
“Yes.”
When I glance at him, his jaw tightens in a way that’s more like Nixon than I’ve seen.
He kneels, and the creature looks up, its nose rising, scenting the air. Finn places a hand gently beside it, but he doesn’t touch it, and I don’t understand why.
My chest constricts. I limp forward, crutch abandoned, compelled by instinct. I bend and scoop it into my arms. It’s tiny, trembling, its body is cool, and its fur is matted and wet. It’s clearly in distress. Why is it alone?
“Finn—please,” I whisper, pressing it tight against my chest, feeling the chill through its damp coat. Its whining breaks my heart.
He stares at me, his face pale and stunned. “Scarlet… don’t… You shouldn’t have…”
But I’m already holding it like a newborn, rocking it gently. “It’s so cold.”
The whimper becomes a twitch, then a shudder, and under my fingers, something shifts. Fur ripples into soft skin, paws shrink into tiny fists. A gasp escapes me as the cub arches its back, and suddenly, it’s not a cub. It’s a baby.
A human, pink-cheeked, red-haired, tiny and bewildered, putting a thumb to her sweet pink lips, blinking up at me with eyes that search my face.
Finn stands, arms flaring out like he’s ready to catch but also ready to recoil.
I press the girl closer, wrapping her in the folds of my shirt. Her hair is damp and scented with a powdery baby smell that ripples through me like an ache I can’t explain.
“What…”
Finn shakes his head, as disbelieving as I am.
“What the hell is going on?” I continue, voice shaking.
Around us, forest sounds press in, but all I can hear is the baby’s quiet inhale, and the sharp intake of breath from the man who seems as shocked as I am at the transformation that happened before our eyes.
Or is he?
19
FINN
My breath catches somewhere between disbelief and wonder as Scarlet cradles the trembling bundle against her chest, revealing the delicate curve of a baby’s cheek and a mop of red hair matted against damp skin.
A girl. A female shifter.
A miracle no one in our pack has ever seen. So rare, I stare, unable to comprehend.
