Love in this broken world

Nolan’s POV

Shhh, common, hold it a little longer, little guy, let her sleep. I held him against me while sitting on the floor.

My hand rested on her arm, wanting her to rest easy after our long night of walking. With Jay chewing his fist in frustration, I tried to reassure both that this place was safe for now.

"Kid, ten more minutes, she needs rest," I whispered.

"He is hungry," she said, smiling. "Thank you, Nolan. You should rest now. I will feed him."

No, I can’t sleep, not now...

Emily came between my legs with her back and took Jay. She leaned back on me.

 Maybe we can nap a little more. I think we got used to each other, you being in the room…

"Yeah, this is good," I said, my arm holding her. I heard the little guy's sucking noise, and I closed my eyes.

A sudden noise snapped me awake. We must have drifted onto our sides; my arm was numb beneath her, wrapped around her waist, with the baby sleeping quietly in her arms.

I listened, but since there was no further noise, I assumed it was just an animal moving outside. The sun was setting low—we would need to get up and move again through the night. Still, I let her sleep a little longer, my face buried in her hair, while Minx stayed content.

I wondered who she was. Where did she come from? How did she grow up? My own memories are fragments: a cold bed, never belonging, always drifting after my parents died. Most didn’t trust a stray—someone like me. I learned to hide who I was, scavenging for scraps, always searching for safety. Everything changed when I stumbled into Hunter’s territory, starving. The last pack, real werewolves. Hunter, just three years older, already looked like an alpha. He saw more in me than anyone had. He trained me. Became my older brother: fair, strict, demanding loyalty and grit. I trusted him. He was the best leader I’d known—until Emily changed everything.

That day, Hunter handed me her assignment. I was annoyed—a human to babysit. But Emily was impossible to ignore. The first thing she did: snatched the map from my hands, grinned, and started charting a new route like the forest was hers. She didn’t listen when I told her to stay close—she laughed and tested how far I’d follow, dancing down the river, boots splashing mud. For the first time in years, I laughed. She teased me for being too serious.

"Someone needs to remind you how to live." I saw that same grit to survive, to carry on when everything crumbles. She was wild, stubborn, alive. It made me notice her. She was beautiful in ways I hadn’t let myself consider for a long time.

The baby stirred. She mumbled that this kid was going to drain her, and I chuckled.

"We need to get up, come on, feed him, we eat, and we leave," I said.

Stepping carefully outside the house, a structure barely holding together but still a decent shelter, I checked our perimeter. I was sure others, both humans and wolf travelers, had passed through here, their signs and scents evident. Once I was satisfied, I headed back inside.

When I returned, she was buttoning her shirt after feeding Jay, who was already asleep again. I joined her quietly.

I handed her a hard piece of bread and some water. Together, we ate in silence.

"Nolan, you didn’t have to…" she said, holding back her tears again. I wanted to curse. Because now I’m picking out the pieces that Hunter left behind.

I pulled her close, and she sobbed. My hand comforts her back softly.

"My tears will run out," she said, wiping them. "It still hurts too much."

"I’m sure it hurts every time you look at Jay," I said. "Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that. I just made it worse."

"He has no fault, Nolan; it's all mine, stupid to believe him. Then other factors made the choice for me. Then…" she said.

"Okay, you don’t need to explain yourself, Emily. I do understand. Now, ready?" I asked.

"Wait," she said. "Soon we'll get to the meeting point. I don’t want to see him again. The memory of how he abandoned me keeps echoing in my head. Maybe it was my fault for believing he could ever be what I needed. I keep wondering if I asked too much from him, or if I was just easy to leave behind." Her voice trembled, and for a second, she looked away, blinking fast like she could force the feelings down. "Nolan, if you were in his place…" The fear and hope twisted together in her eyes. "Never mind, I don’t want to know the answer. You’ll choose the pack; you’re a wolf." Her words were quiet but heavy, her shoulders tense like she was bracing for something that already hurt.

"You’re wrong," I said. "I’m a wolf, but I would’ve chosen you and started over. Finding someone you actually love in this broken world… is rare."

"Thank you for that, even if you didn’t mean it," she said.

"Oh, I meant it. Do you think he will come for you?" I asked.

"Yes, I do, but not for me, for the woman who gives him children," she answered.

She’s smart; she’s figured out what matters. I’m holding back; she has no clue how deep my feelings run.

"Ready to go?" I asked her softly.

"Yeah," she said, strapping Jay with a cloth on her body. I lifted the large backpack, rolled blankets on top, and we walked along the river, and it was getting harder. Elevation.

After an hour, Emily was slowing down. " Give me your hand," I said. "It will be easier."

After another quick break, I strapped Jay to my chest and the backpack, and we picked up the pace as the terrain grew steeper.

We passed the meeting point an hour ago. She didn’t say anything, but I saw the determination on her face.

"Nolan, tell me about your life, please," she asked.

As we walked into the pre-dawn light, Emily listened intently while I told my story, answering her questions in quiet moments. Descending the slope, I began scouting for a place to rest, hoping to find safe shelter before sunrise.

We can see miles of farmland laid out below us, the soil furrowed in long, dark rows, patches of stubble shimmering gold where wheat once grew. Between the fields, brushy hedges, and crooked fences, forgotten boundaries were marked. Here and there, stands of wild grass swayed in the wind, growing up through old, rusted farm equipment half-swallowed by the earth. It all looked open and exposed, no cover from prying eyes, and the long stretches between the trees made me uneasy.  Emily pointed toward a cabin nestled at the foot of a slope, half-hidden beneath tangles of ivy and climbing wild roses. The wood was grey with age, almost disappearing into the unruly green, as if the earth were trying to reclaim it.

I told her to remain outside until I check the safety inside. It was dark; my eyes adjusted fast. The scent upon entering was stuffy and dusty. As I looked around, I found a room with an actual bed, and the covers were neatly fixed. The kitchen had some canned food. Wow, this is good. Maybe too good?