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He pulls me closer and purrs. “Not all you meet will be noble of purpose. Sometimes the bad people come here too. We do not know the young stag or anything about him. Perhaps he was spinning a tale to lure you away.”

Only his voice is softer, and I think he does not believe the worst of Seven anymore.

He holds me tightly, pressing a kiss to my head. “Gods, Fawn. Your mama is beside herself worrying for you. We shall go straight home and put this nonsense behind us.”

He picks Abigale up from the floor, passing her to me before taking off for home at a run.

I am full of turmoil inside, terrified that the young stag has been caught and that the wolves will hurt him very badly, for I know that they deal harshly with trespassers on our land.

The tears begin to fall harder.

As we near home, I see my mama standing at the garden’s edge with my cardigan clutched to her chest.

“Fawn!” Her cry shakes me, for I hear how full of pain it is. As soon as my father reaches her, she takes me in her arms. “Oh, love.”

I cling, crying, realizing the enormity of what I did—that I might have encountered a bear shifter instead of a noble stag.

“She was at the old mill,” my papa says, shifting to human. “There was a young stag shifter there.”

“Goodness! What was he doing?” my mama asks.

“No more than talking to her, from what I can see,” my father replies.

“He was on a quest,” I say between sobs. “He was worried when he found I was alone.”

My mother kisses the top of my head, although her hands are still trembling. “Stags are noble creatures,” she says. “I’m sure his intentions were good. But you must not go there again on your own, love.”

We return to the cottage. The cake is ready—my mother found I was gone when she came to tell me.

I am not to go into the garden for the rest of the day or play in my nest.

Mama gives me a slice of cake and a glass of milk, and I sit at the table with Abigale while they talk quietly outside the door.

I should not snoop, but I’m feeling bad about what happened and shaken, so I slip off the chair and creep to the door to listen.

“I don’t like it,” my mama says. “He could have snatched her, John. Our baby could have been taken.”

“There, love,” my papa says. “I think he was merely curious, having happened upon her.”

“What did the pack enforcer say?” she asks. “Did they catch up with him? Did he tell them what he saw?”

“No, he got away, which is probably for the best. We cannot stay here. He might come back and bring more of his kind. We cannot take the risk.”

“I was so scared, John. I tried to shift, but it has been so long, and no matter how I tried, I couldn’t.”

She begins sobbing.

“You cannot shift, love. It is too dangerous here. We are too close to the heart of the pack. I think we need to move.

“Oh, John. Where would we even go?”

“My old pack would take us in. It has larger lands, and we can seek or build a place away from the pack heart. We cannot stay here now, not now that she has been seen. You know as much.”

My mother’s crying continues.

I can hear my papa purring, seeking to comfort her.

My lips quiver as I realize I have ruined everything, and now we must move.