Page 71 of Taken By The Wolves
No one speaks.
As the truck rumbles up the long gravel drive, the house comes into view. It’s as we left it; low, stone-faced, ancient. Our father always said it was built to outlast time, and maybe it will. The main doors are already open.
They scented us. They knew we were coming.
As the engine cuts off, four figures step out of the house: our father first, then our mother, followed by Chris and Macon, our cousins who are now the chosen heirs.
All in human form. All waiting.
But they’re not alone.
Standing behind them is Cami, the spiritual wolf. She doesn’t speak much, but when she does, people listen. Her presence isn’t an accident.
She sensed something unusual about our arrival.
I step out first, unbuckling Ahya so that Scarlet can slide from the truck. Scarlet stands tall, chin high, eyes bright. She’s nervous, but she won’t show weakness. Not when she’s aware of our complex history and the importance of today’s visit. Her flaming red hair hangs long over her shoulders, and she’s radiant in a long white skirt and forest green top that brings out the color of her eyes. I couldn’t be prouder.
Our father watches us approach with his thick arms folded across his broad chest. The gray in his hair has spread since we last saw him, but his expression is as hard, scrutinizing, and assessing as always.
Mother’s gaze flicks first to the child, then to Scarlet, and something softens in her face. She steps forward instinctively, reaching out as if to touch our mate, but stops herself short.
“Why are you here?” Father asks.
Nixon stiffens. “Before we talk, we should make introductions first. This is our mate, Scarlet. Scarlet, these are my parents, Frederick and Angeli. Cousins Chris and Macon. And Cami. This is Scarlet, and Ahya.”
He leaves Ahya a mystery, but Cami’s eyes linger over her, and she steps forward to get a better view. I tighten my grip on the child as Scarlet moves closer, revealing her protectiveness.
“You brought her,” Cami says, her voice gravelly but high with awe.
Scarlet answers before any of us can. “I found her. She is ours.”
There’s a pause, long and loaded. Our father’s jaw tics. “She’s not yours by blood,” he says.
“She’s ours by choice,” Nixon grits out.
Cami’s eyes flash at that. She steps forward, her silver braids glinting in the fading light. “Let me see her.”
I hesitate, but when Ahya stirs and turns her cheek toward Cami, as if she knows, I adjust my grip so she can be seen. Her eyes are wide and clear as she stares out over my estranged family.
Cami extends a hand, and the moment her fingers touch Ahya, the air thickens.
Wind rushes through the trees without warning. The leaves tremble. Cami closes her eyes.
Everyone watches in silence as the spiritual wolf chants softly in the old tongue. After a minute, her eyes snap open, bright and knowing.
“She's not what you think. She is more.”
Our mother steps forward, eyebrows drawn. “More how?”
“She is born of pain and violation,” Cami says softly. “Of forced bloodlines.”
Our stomachs twist. Scarlet’s hand touches Ahya possessively, and I let her lift the child from my arms and cradle her close to her breast.
“Violation?” Reed asks, voice low. Even though we know some of Aura’s story, Cami has the power to discern more.
Cami’s eyes gain a sharper focus. “Her mother’s pain clings to her. Two violations. A rogue wolf. And a bear with black in his heart. She survived it, barely. But this child…” She looks at Ahya who’s still sleeping. “There is wolf in her. But also… bear. And something else. Something veiled. She is not cursed. She is blessed. The old powers touch her. This child may be the only bridge between what was... and what must come.”
Father’s face is stone. “You brought the child of a bear to this house.”
