Rejected Me Once, Never Fool Me Twice
And… pup?
A soft, hiccuping cry broke the silence. Infant. Tiny. Panicked.
I froze. My wolf whined, low, urgent. Protect.
I rounded the last thick oak and stopped.
Behind the trunk, curled against the roots, was a girl. Maybe fourteen, fifteen. Dark hair matted with dirt and leaves, clothes torn and filthy, arms wrapped tight around a bundle against her chest. A baby. Wrapped in what looked like a shredded jacket. The infant’s cries were weak now, more whimpers than wails, tiny fists waving.
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