The man stood at the edge of the treeline, just close enough that Sarah could see his combat fatigues, but not close enough that she could make out his face. The inability to get a read on him made her feel almost as vulnerable as the gun he had pointed at her.
Caim and Snow were frozen in place, and Sarah tried to make a move to stand in front of them.
“Stop right there,” the solider commanded, staring at her through the scope of his gun. “Hands up.”
Sarah did as she was told, while her mind worked overdrive to formulate a plan.
A slight drawl to his voice, he asked, “You one of them?”
“One of what?” she asked.
“A werebear.”
She remembered how Cain had lectured her on the word when they’d first met, and for one, hysterical moment, she almost laughed.
Regaining her composure, she said, “No, I’m not a bear, and neither are they. Please, just put the gun down and—”
“We are wolves,” Caim blurted.
His loud proclamation seemed to echo through the forest, and Sarah felt the last of the blood drain from her face.
“Please,” she said, taking a step closer to the children.
“I said stop.”
She froze, but was unable to stop the stream of words that flowed from her mouth.
“My name is Sarah Harper. I’m from Florida. Mind if I ask where you’re from?” She kept talking as he began to slowly advance on them. “That’s okay, I’m great with accents. Let me guess, Atlanta? I had friend in high school that was from Atlanta, you sound just like him.”
He stopped, but didn’t lower his gun. “Valdosta,” he grunted. “What are you doing out here with these wolves? You one of them werewhores?”
Sarah took a small measure of comfort in the fact that he could have already killed them. She knew that after Caim’s admission, it would be hard to convince him that the children weren’t werewolves. Not to mention the fact that with their pelt cloaks and disheveled hair, they looked like stereotypical werewolf pups.
Her mind ran the gamut of possible outcomes, not liking any of them. She’d never heard of werewolves being taken into custody. His orders were probably to kill any shifters he encountered. Yet, he hadn’t killed them.
The last time Sarah had been held at gunpoint, she’d used her humanity as a shield. She realized that this time, if she had any hope of escaping with Caim and Snow, she’d have to think like a predator. Sarah had a hunch about why the soldier hadn’t shot them yet. He had a weakness, and she needed to exploit it.
“Valdosta,” she said in her most conversational voice. “You know, I think I might have passed through there on my way up here. I-75, right?”
He might have answered, but she didn’t wait.
“Do they shoot little kids in Valdosta, or do they just hold them at gunpoint?”
The soldier visibly stiffened. “They’re not kids.”
Fearless as ever, Caim said, “I am not a kid.”
Sarah boldly took another step forward, and she was able to place her hand on Caim’s head.
“Do you really think they aren’t kids, or are you just saying that so you can sleep tonight?” she challenged.
The soldier was close enough that she could see him glare at her from behind the scope of his gun. “I don’t shoot kids, but—”
Sarah cut him off. “And if you walk away from here, you can keep saying that.”
For a few seconds, Sarah couldn’t hear anything but the blood rushing in her head. Sometime during the course of their standoff, the sun had set. An eerie calm settled over her as she saw a dark figure moving through the trees.
For as long as she would live, Sarah would never be able to think about the soldier without feeling a pang of guilt. She would always wonder if he had been going to let them go. But never once did she resent Cain for slamming the soldier onto the ground and tearing his throat out. In the end, all that mattered was that her children were safe.
* * *
The human’s blood was still in Cain’s mouth when he shifted. It tasted like copper and victory. As his human shape took form, Cain felt his son latch to his legs. He picked the pup up, crushing him against his chest.
Cain carried his son as he made his way to his mate, scooping up Snow along the way. Shifting the pups into one arm, he wrapped the other around Sarah, pulling her into a tight embrace.
As soon as she was in his arms, her body began to tremble. Cain clutched at the silken rope of her hair, pulling it to tilt her head back. He took in her ashen face and wide, shimmering eyes, his mouth growing dry.
It had been well over a month since he found her, lost and stumbling through the wilderness in her absurdly impractical shoes. With her frail constitution and horrendous vision, she should never have appealed to him as a potential mate. Yet for some reason, his wolf had pursued her anyway.