Page 42 of Taken By The Wolves

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 andlegends. 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 Ihaveto 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, butevery 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.”