Page 41 of Taken By The Wolves
This may be the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.
Only time will tell.
20
NIXON
I’m in the yard, sweeping up after unpacking the morning delivery, when I catch sight of the truck creeping up the drive. Finn’s behind the wheel, and Scarlet is perched beside him with her wild red hair forming a luminous halo against the washed-out sky.
My heart thuds at the sight of her, relief pouring through me. I hadn’t even realized how tightly I’d been wound until now. Leaving her in bed this morning was the hardest thing I’ve had to do in a long time, and being separated from her is a torture I couldn’t have endured for much longer. She’s the fire I’ve been craving, and the missing piece I can no longer do without.
Then a scent hits me, sharp and foreign. A wolf, not of our pack. My shoulders lock, every nerve ending razor-edged with instinct. My wolf surges beneath my skin, furious and territorial. Has someone touched her? Claimed her? Brought her back marked with another pack’s scent like a brand?
The shift claws at me, hot and wild, begging to surface. I shut my eyes, grip my rage by the throat, and force it down into bone. Now is not the time.
The truck stops. Finn climbs out, rounds the vehicle, and opens Scarlet’s door. She swings her legs out slowly, cradling something in her arms. My gaze drops, and the rest of the world vanishes.
A baby.
A tiny naked baby, vulnerable, skin damp and flushed. It’s a little girl with red hair and a Cupid’s bow mouth, so perfect she looks like a cherub in an oil painting.
But it reeks of wolf.
Not our pack.
The animal in me stills.
I step forward as Finn guides Scarlet toward me. She meets my gaze, those green-gold eyes bright with fierce determination. This is not the shaken woman we pulled from the woods days ago. This is my mate. My strong, vibrant, beautiful mate.
Reed steps through the warehouse door behind me, his entire body going taut, senses lashing like whip cords in the direction of that scent. He smells it, too.
Where has this baby come from, and why does it smell like it’s been curled up with a wolf?
Finn straightens. “Let’s go inside. We need to talk.”
Scarlet shifts the baby in her arms. She looks at me like she’s already made a choice and is daring me to have something to say about it.
I step aside, gesturing toward the office. Reed follows, his brow tight, his fists balled, his wolf ready. We move in silence that pulses with questions.
The baby sleeps, belly rising with every tiny inhale.
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.
