Sarah watched him leave, as man shifted into wolf before vanishing into the forest. A vague anxiety still clawed at her, but she didn’t have time to contemplate it. The moment Cain was gone, Clover went in for the kill.
“So tell me,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “Who exactly are you, and why do you smell like my brother?”
* * *
It only took Cain a few minutes to pick up traces of Fern’s scent. He followed it until he found her tracks, large pawprints evenly paced alongside a much smaller set. His son would not have knowingly let Fern follow him, but Cain could tell by the strength of their scents that she hadn’t been far behind him, which put his mind at ease.
It was not the first time Cain had been away for an extended period of time. He frequently made trips to Elkins, a city just large enough for him to slip in and out undetected. He stayed long enough to restock their medical supplies, generally no more than a single night. The entire trip took just over a week, though Cain suspected that this time he had been gone at least two.
Usually, Cain kept a hard pace and stopped only once to rest on the trip back. But with Sarah in tow, he had not been able to travel so quickly. Not only had she been much slower than he, but she had needed to sleep each day. She was a resilient female, and he probably could have urged her on, had he not been so selfish. Accommodating her need to rest had little to do with being magnanimous and everything to do with the fact that he had wanted to lie beside her and to feel her soft, fleshy body pressed up against his.
From the first night he had lain beside her in his human form, stiff and aching, Cain had known that he would have Sarah. When she had rejected him, it had only made him want her more, and before long his goal of returning home had taken second place to figuring out how to undermine her resistances. Had he simply pressed on and ignored his baser urges, they would have made it to Greystone before she became fertile. Then, he could be contemplating any one of the major conflicts facing his pack—the soldiers, Snow’s illness, or even his wayward brothers—but instead, all he could think of was how he was going to handle things with Sarah.
Earlier that morning, Cain had returned to the den filled with purpose. When Sarah had asked if what they had done was normal, Cain was given the perfect opportunity to tell her everything. He should have told her about the mating thrall, how much power her fertile scent had over males of his species, power that had only been amplified by the fact that the scent of their previous coupling still clung to her. He should have explained to her that she could be carrying his pup, and that she would have to stay with his pack, at least until they knew for certain.
He would like to think it was consideration, rather than cowardice, that had led him to procrastinate. She had seemed so anxious and unsure of herself, and he had thought that perhaps once she was within the safety of his pack, where she could have a filling meal and a few hours of unbroken sleep, they could discuss the issue without her becoming too emotional.
Cain had no idea what her reaction would be, despite the fact that he had spent more time contemplating it than he had his own feelings towards the matter. Rather than drive himself crazy, he decided it would be best to consider those if and when they became relevant.
Predictably, the trail led up a steep slope. Cain threaded through trees, slowing down as the scents of Fern and Caim grew stronger.
Fern came into view first. Her back was to him as she sat on the fat branch of a tall oak, absently swinging her feet. Her long, black hair tossed in the wind as she tilted her head back and brought a finger to her lips.
Quietly approaching, Cain sat beneath the oak, not needing her to tell him where his son was. The trees were thin ahead, and the wind carried Caim’s scent from the distant bluff where he sat, overlooking the narrow valley below.
Caim was his only son, his namesake. Like most pups his age, Caim disliked taking his human form. The shift could be painful in their early years, and even those who mastered the shift early often felt vulnerable in their frailer human bodies. It was a measure of their security, how soon pups began to frequent their human form. The fact that Caim never left his wolf form was a constant reminder to Cain that he was failing as a father.
He sat in silence with Fern, taking equal parts of comfort and sadness in watching his son. While he was traveling with Sarah, he had been far too eager to cast aside his responsibilities for the sake of chasing a female.
His pack deserved better, and above all, Caim deserved better.
Chapter 3
They had to walk back to the den on foot, as Clover wasn’t big enough to carry Sarah on her back. It wasn’t hard for Sarah to forget the stinging pain of cold and pine needles in her bare feet, as Clover’s interrogation held her full attention.