Winter tightened its grip on the mountains. Snow covered the forest in thick white silence while icy winds swept through the trees.
Inside the small cabin, Mia sat beside the fire, staring out the window. Her stomach had begun to show now. Michael was right. The child was growing quickly. Sometimes she felt tiny movements beneath her ribs. Each time, fear and wonder mixed together inside her. A small life. Depending on her.
Michael entered the cabin carrying firewood. “The snow will last another week,” he said.
Mia nodded quietly. Her thoughts elsewhere. “Do you think the pack knows I survived,” she asked.
Michael hesitated. “They may suspect.”
Mia wrapped her arms around herself. “If they find me…”
“They won’t,” Michael said firmly.
But far away, in the Bloodmoon pack territory…
