Safety

The sound of footsteps came first, steady, more than one person, moving through the trees with purpose. Bonita heard them before she saw anyone. She pushed herself upright, pain flaring low in her body, and pulled the girls closer under the rock overhang.

“Stay behind me,” she whispered.

Mira tightened her hold on the baby. Lila grabbed the twins and pressed them against the stone wall. Bonita stepped forward just enough to put herself between the opening and her children.

Four men stepped into view. They wore dark clothes and carried the scent of a different pack. Wolves. Not Blackthorn. Their eyes moved over Bonita, then to the children behind her. One of them, taller than the others, held up a hand so the rest stopped.

“You’re on our territory,” he said. His voice was calm but firm. “How long have you been here?”

Bonita kept her back straight. “We crossed the border last night. We didn’t know this land was claimed.”

The man looked at the baby in Mira’s arms, then at the other girls. His gaze returned to Bonita. He took in her pale face, the blood that had dried on the lower part of her dress, and the way she stood as if every movement hurt.

“You’re injured,” he said.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.” He glanced at the others. “They’re not rogues. Look at the children.”

One of the men behind him spoke. “Could be a trick. Or runaways.”

Bonita’s voice stayed even. “We’re not looking for trouble. We need to keep moving. That’s all.”

The tall one studied her for another moment. “Name.”

She hesitated, then answered. “Bonita.”

“Pack?”

“None. Not anymore.”

Something shifted in his expression. He looked at the girls again—Mira’s steady stare, Lila’s red eyes, the twins holding each other, the newborn wrapped in a thin cloth.

“You’re coming with us,” he said.

Bonita’s stomach tightened. “No.”

“It wasn’t a request. You’re on our land, clearly in no condition to travel, and you have five children with you. Our Alpha will decide what happens next. You can walk, or we can carry you. Choose.”

Mira stepped closer to her mother’s side. “Mama—”

“It’s all right,” Bonita said quietly. She looked at the man. “They stay with me. All of them. If you separate us, I will fight you.”

He gave a short nod. “No one is separating you. Move.”

Bonita turned to the girls. “Stay close. Do not let go of each other.”

They left the overhang. Two of the men walked in front, two behind. Bonita kept Mira and the baby directly at her side. Lila held the twins’ hands. The pace was steady but not rushed. Even so, every step pulled at Bonita’s body. She clenched her jaw and kept walking.

After a while the trees thinned and a cleared path appeared. The scent of a settled pack grew stronger. Bonita felt the girls pressing closer to her as the first buildings came into view—simple, solid structures, different from Blackthorn’s larger pack house.

People stopped what they were doing when the group passed. Eyes followed them. No one spoke. Bonita kept her focus on the path and on the children.

They were led to a large wooden building at the center of the settlement. The tall man stepped inside first and spoke to someone in a low voice. A moment later he returned.

“He’s waiting.”

Bonita’s heart beat harder. She tightened her hand on Mira’s shoulder and walked through the doorway.

The room was plain and well-lit. A man stood near a table, tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair and a calm, unreadable face. He looked at Bonita first, then at each of the girls in turn. His gaze lingered on the baby for a second longer before returning to her.

“You crossed into our territory last night,” he said. His voice was even, without anger. “With five children and no supplies. Explain.”

Bonita met his eyes. “We were banished from Blackthorn. The Alpha there rejected me and ordered us out before the moon reached its highest point. We walked until we couldn’t. We didn’t know this land belonged to anyone.”

He studied her in silence for a moment. “You’re still bleeding.”

She didn’t answer.

He looked at Mira. “How old are you?”

“Eight,” Mira said.

His eyes moved to Lila. “And you?”

“Six.”

He asked the twins the same question. They answered in small voices. Then he looked at the baby again.

“How old is the youngest?”

“Three days,” Bonita said.

Something in his expression shifted, though his voice stayed the same. “Three days, and you were forced to walk through the night.”

He turned his head slightly toward the tall man who had brought them. “Get the healer. Now. And food. Enough for all of them.”

The man left at once.

Bonita kept her arm around the girls. “We don’t need charity. We only need to pass through.”

“You’re in no condition to pass through anything,” he answered. “The healer will check you and the children. You’ll eat. Then we’ll talk about what happens next.”

He looked at her directly. “No one here is going to take your children from you. You have my word on that.”

Bonita held his gaze. She did not trust easily, not after the last days, but the way he spoke left little room for argument. Behind her, Lila’s stomach made a small sound of hunger. The baby shifted in Mira’s arms and began to cry.

The man glanced at the child, then back at Bonita.

“Sit down before you fall,” he said. “All of you.”

Bonita hesitated only a second longer, then guided the girls to the seats along the wall. She kept the baby close once Mira handed her over and stayed between her children and the rest of the room. The man watched them for another moment, then turned and gave quiet orders to someone at the door.

For the first time since they left Blackthorn, someone else was deciding the next step, and Bonita could only wait to see what that decision would be.