Chapter 3

His fingers trembled as he slowly reached for Annie's ear.

"How old are you?"

"Four."

"When's your birthday?"

"Mommy said it was the day the blood moon set."

Sebastian's breathing faltered.

The day the blood moon set.

That was the day, a little over four years ago, that I'd sent him my very first call for help from outside the wire fence.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he opened his mouth to ask another question.

"Seb!"

Daphne's anxious voice rang out from the altar.

She hurried over, carrying her five-year-old son, Leo Cross.

She was wearing Sebastian's black wolf-fur coat.

I'd sewn it for him by hand, stitch by stitch, from my own shed winter fur mixed with silver fox.

Now Daphne wore it, its hem carrying the scent of marigolds.

"Seb, I think Leo has a fever. He's burning up!"

Daphne's eyes were a little red, and her voice was shaking.

Sebastian glanced down at Annie in the mud, then at Leo, whimpering in Daphne's arms.

In the end, he shoved the urn back into Annie's arms.

He strode over and scooped Leo up himself.

"Don't be scared, Leo. I'll take you to the healer."

His voice was unbelievably gentle.

Annie stood in the blizzard, watching his big hand rest on the boy's forehead.

She bit her blue-tinged lip and quietly raised a frozen hand to her own forehead. It was burning hot too.

Watching my daughter do that tore my soul apart.

Exposure to cold could make Annie's bloodline wasting disease much worse. She must have been running a fever too.

Sebastian carried Leo a couple of steps, then stopped.

He looked back at Annie, frowning.

"You're soaked from the snow. Get in the car. I'll have the healer take a look at you too."

Annie took a step back, holding the urn.

"Annie's not going with a bad man."

Sebastian had no patience left for her. "Put her in the car," he ordered.

A guard grabbed Annie and shoved her into the SUV's rear seat, throwing the old dog in after her when it rushed to protect her.

It was warm inside the SUV.

Back when I was pregnant with Annie, my morning sickness was so bad that I couldn't stand the smell of the car's leather. I begged him to keep a box of dried mint leaves in it.

He said I was being dramatic and never did.

Now, the SUV was filled with the cloying scent of roses from Daphne's favorite air freshener.

Annie curled up in the farthest corner of the seat, hugging the urn and Rusty tight.

She leaned close to the old dog's ear and whispered.

"Rusty, the bad wolves got us. You only have three legs, so you can't run very fast.

"When we get out, Annie will bite the bad man. You run away first, okay?"

Daphne sat in the passenger seat. She glanced back and immediately covered her nose with her silk scarf.

"Oh my God, where did this filthy stray come from? He's covered in mud! What if Leo catches fleas from him?"

Annie shot back right away, "Rusty is family! Rusty licks his fur every day, so he's not dirty!"

In the rearview mirror, Sebastian could see Annie's lips, frozen and colorless.

After a moment, he pulled a pack of white handkerchiefs from the glove compartment and tossed it into her lap.

"Wipe your face."

Annie didn't even look at him.

Very carefully, she pulled a packet wrapped in oiled paper from the lining of her ragged clothes.

She carefully dabbed away the melted snow seeping into the edges of the packet.

"Mommy's things can't get wet."

Floating above the car, I recognized that packet.

Inside was my death certificate from a healer in the slums, along with a stack of thin bark tablets I'd whittled myself.

After losing sight in one eye, I'd painstakingly carved those tablets by touch in the dark.

The last few at the bottom were my final words to Annie.

Leo, lying in Sebastian's arms, suddenly reached out and grabbed the tablet on top.

"What's this piece of junk? That little wolf carving is so ugly!"

Annie's expression changed. She lunged at him.

"Give it back! Mommy left that for me!"