Chapter 32 Unusual Child
The appointment at Northern Sanctuary is scheduled for Thursday afternoon. I spend the days leading up to it in a state of constant anxiety, second-guessing my decision every few hours.
"You're doing the right thing," Carmen assures me for the hundredth time. "Rory needs this."
But what if I'm not? What if this is exactly what Stella and Mason want—me walking straight into a trap?
The morning of the appointment, I wake to find Rory already dressed and waiting by the door with a small backpack.
"We going to see pack today?" she asks, bouncing on her toes with excitement.
"Just to visit, baby. Just to look."
"And if I like them? Can we stay?"
The hope in her voice breaks my heart. She's nearly a year old but speaks like a three-year-old, thinks like a three-year-old, and desperately needs what I've been denying her.
"We'll see," I say, which is the closest I can come to making a promise.
The drive north takes three hours. Rafael insists on coming with us, saying he won't let us walk into an unknown situation alone. Carmen stays behind, though I can tell it costs her.
"Someone needs to be here in case this is a trap," she says, hugging me tightly. "Someone who knows where you've gone."
The Northern Sanctuary is exactly where the directions said it would be—deep in the coastal mountains, accessible only by a private road that winds through old-growth forest. The gates are impressive: fifteen feet high, solid steel, with cameras visible on both posts.
A voice crackles through the intercom. "Can I help you?"
"Sage Mitchell," I say, my voice barely steady. "I have an appointment with Elena."
The gates swing open silently.
We drive through, and I'm immediately struck by how... normal everything looks. There's a small town square with shops, a schoolhouse, what appears to be a community center. Children play in a park—some in human form, some shifted, all supervised by adults who watch them with careful attention.
"It's beautiful," Rafael breathes.
He's right. It is beautiful. But beautiful things can be dangerous.
Elena meets us in the parking area—the silver-haired woman from that night in my bedroom. She's dressed casually now, in jeans and a flannel shirt, looking more like someone's grandmother than the intimidating wolf who broke into my home.
"Sage," she says warmly, extending her hand. "I'm so glad you came. And this must be Rory."
Rory hides behind my legs, suddenly shy.
"It's okay, baby," I murmur. "She's safe."
"How you know?" Rory whispers back, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Elena laughs. "Smart child. You should always question whether someone is safe." She crouches down to Rory's level. "Your mama doesn't know if I'm safe yet. That's why you're here—to decide together if this place feels right."
Rory considers this, then nods. "Okay. I help Mama decide."
"Good. Now, would you like to see the school? We have other children about your age—well, about your developmental age—who would love to meet you."
"Other kids like me?" Rory's eyes light up. "Who can shift?"
"Yes. And who understand what it's like to be special in ways the human world doesn't understand."
Rory looks up at me, silently asking permission.
"Go ahead," I tell her. "I'll be right here."
Elena gestures to a young woman nearby. "This is Claire. She teaches our youngest students. She'll show Rory the classroom while we talk."
I watch my daughter walk away, her small hand in Claire's, and fight the urge to call her back.
"She'll be safe," Elena says gently. "I promise you, Sage. Nothing matters more to us than the safety of our children."
The tour takes two hours. Elena shows us everything—the medical facility where Dr. Chen works part-time, the training grounds where young wolves learn to control their shifts, the housing units where families live.
"We have apartments available immediately," she explains, showing us a two-bedroom unit with large windows overlooking the forest. "Fully furnished, utilities included. Your rent would be subsidized based on your income from Margaret's company."
"How do you know about that?" I ask sharply.
"We do background checks on everyone who applies. Not to invade privacy, but to ensure we can accommodate their needs." Elena's voice is patient. "We knew about Margaret, about the Garcias, about your medical team. We needed to verify that you weren't being coerced or followed."
It makes sense. But it still feels like an invasion.
Rafael examines the apartment critically. "Security?"
"The entire sanctuary is surrounded by a reinforced perimeter. Cameras, patrols, and a warning system that alerts us to any unauthorized approach." Elena pulls out a tablet, showing him the security grid. "We've never had a breach in fifteen years."
"What about information leaks? Someone recognizing Sage, telling her old pack where she is?"
"Everyone here has signed confidentiality agreements. Violation results in immediate expulsion and legal consequences." Elena looks at me directly. "Your secret is safe here, Sage. We have three other wolves in residence who are hiding from former packs. None of them have ever been found."
We continue the tour. The sanctuary has its own power grid, water supply, and even a small farm that provides most of their food. It's completely self-sufficient—a world unto itself.
"Why?" I finally ask. "Why go to all this effort? What do you get out of it?"
Elena's smile is sad. "Safety. Community. A place where wolves who don't fit the traditional pack structure can still have a pack life." She pauses at a memorial wall, covered in photographs and names. "These are the wolves we've lost over the years. Most died before they found us—killed by their own packs for being too weak, too different, too human. We built this place so their deaths wouldn't be meaningless."
I study the photographs. Young faces, old faces, all frozen in time. So many of them.
"I was like you once," Elena continues quietly. "A rogue running from a pack that wanted me dead. I barely survived. When I did, I swore I'd create a place where no wolf would have to run alone again."
"What did you do? To make them want you dead?"
"I refused a mating bond with an Alpha who believed omegas existed only to serve." Her voice is matter-of-fact. "He tried to force the bond. I killed him in self-defense. His pack wanted revenge."
The similarity to my own story is too close for comfort.
"How many wolves live here now?" Rafael asks.
"One hundred forty-three adults, sixty-two children under eighteen." Elena leads us toward the schoolhouse. "Most are rogues like Sage. Some are wolves who left packs for various reasons—refusing arranged matings, protecting children from abusive pack dynamics, or simply not fitting in."
Inside the schoolhouse, I can hear Rory's laughter.
We enter quietly, and I see her in a circle with five other children, all shifted to wolf form. They're playing a game—pouncing on balls, wrestling gently, practicing the social dynamics of pack behavior.
Rory is in her element. Her silver-gray fur shines in the sunlight streaming through the windows, and her amber eyes are bright with joy.
"She's never looked happier," Rafael observes softly.
He's right. In all her eleven months of life, I've never seen Rory look this free.
Claire approaches us. "She's remarkable. The other children accepted her immediately—usually it takes days for a new wolf to integrate into the play group."
"That's because she's an Alpha," Elena murmurs. "Even as a pup, other wolves recognize and defer to her authority."
I watch my daughter establish dominance without aggression, simply by being herself. The other pups follow her lead naturally, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
"What happens when she gets older?" I ask. "When her Alpha nature becomes stronger?"
"We have training programs specifically for young Alphas. Teaching them to lead without dominating, to protect without controlling." Elena's voice is confident. "We've successfully raised six Alpha children to adulthood. All of them are now pack leaders themselves—good, fair leaders who remember what it was like to be vulnerable."
After the tour, we sit in Elena's office while Rory continues playing with the other children.
"I need to be honest with you," Elena says, her expression serious. "Taking you in isn't without risk for us."
"What kind of risk?"
"You're the rejected mate of an Alpha. If Mason discovers you're here, he could challenge our right to harbor you. Pack law is complicated when it comes to rejected mates, especially ones who bore Alpha children."
"So you don't want us."
"I didn't say that." Elena leans forward. "I said there's risk. But we've weighed that risk against what Rory needs, and we believe she deserves a chance to grow up in a community. We're willing to take that risk."
"What if Mason finds us anyway? What if he comes here?"
"Then we defend you. Simple as that." Elena's voice is steel. "This is neutral territory. Mason has no authority here. If he wants to claim you or Rory, he'll have to fight every wolf in this sanctuary to do it."
The thought of Mason fighting his way through this peaceful place makes me sick.
"I need time," I say. "Time to think about this. To decide if it's really what's best for Rory."
"Take all the time you need. The apartment will be held for you for two weeks." Elena hands me a folder. "Here's everything you need to know—enrollment procedures, security protocols, community guidelines. Read it carefully. Ask questions. And when you're ready, call me."
We collect Rory from the playroom. She clings to the other children, not wanting to leave.
"Do we have to go?" she asks, her eyes filling with tears. "Can't we stay, Mama? Please?"
"Not yet, baby. But maybe soon."
"Promise?"
I can't promise. Can't make guarantees I might not be able to keep. But looking at her face, so full of hope and longing, I realize I've already made my decision.
"I promise I'll think about it very carefully," I tell her. "And I'll do what's best for you. Always."
The drive back to Vancouver is quiet. Rory falls asleep in her car seat, exhausted from playing. Rafael and I don't talk much, both lost in our own thoughts.
When we finally reach the Garcia house, Carmen is waiting anxiously.
"Well?" she demands. "How was it?"
"Perfect," Rafael says. "Almost too perfect."
"Nothing's perfect," I add. "But it's... it's what Rory needs. I can't deny that anymore."
That night, I read through the folder Elena gave me. The sanctuary's history, their security measures, testimonials from residents. Everything looks legitimate, professional, safe.
But I can't shake the feeling that I'm missing something. That there's a catch I haven't seen yet.
Around midnight, Rory appears in my doorway.
"Can't sleep, Mama."
"Bad dream?"
"No. Good dream." She climbs into bed beside me. "Dreamed about the other pups. About playing and running and being free."
"That's a nice dream, baby."
"Mama?" Her voice is small, uncertain. "Why we always alone? Why we don't have pack like other wolves?"
And there it is. The question I've been dreading for months.
"It's complicated, Rory."
"I'm smart. I can understand complicated."
She's right. She's too smart for simple answers, too perceptive to accept easy lies.
"We don't live alone. We have Carmen and Rafael—"
"But why don't we live with other wolves?" Those amber eyes pin me in place. "The books say wolves are pack animals. That they need community. Social structure. Why don't we have that?"
"We do have community. We have—"
"Human community. Not wolf community." She takes a bite of eggs, chewing thoughtfully. "There's a difference, right? The books about wolves, they talk about hierarchy. Alpha, beta, omega. Which one are you, Mama?"
My throat closes. "I was an omega. The lowest rank."
"Was?"
"I left my pack. When I was younger, I was part of a pack," I begin carefully. "But things happened—bad things—and I had to leave. To keep you safe."
"What bad things? And why?"
"Because..." How do I explain this to a three-year-old? How do I tell her about betrayal, rejection, survival? "Because sometimes staying in a bad situation is more dangerous than leaving."
"Was it bad because you were omega?"
"Partly."
She absorbs this, her expression too serious for such a young face. "And me? What am I?"
"You're special, Rory. You're—"
"Alpha." It's not a question. "I can feel it sometimes. Like there's this... power inside me. Waiting. Growing. Is that normal?"
I sit down across from her, suddenly exhausted. "Nothing about you is normal, baby. But that doesn't mean you're wrong or bad. It just means you're extraordinary."
"Extraordinary and alone." She pushes her eggs around her plate. "The wolves in the books, they're never alone. They have packs. Families. Why can't we have that?"
"We have each other."
"That's not the same and you know it." Her eyes flash amber. "I can feel it, Mama. This... emptiness. Like part of me is missing. Like I'm supposed to be connected to something bigger but I'm not."
The mate bond. She's describing the mate bond, or something like it. A connection to pack, to community, to others of her kind.
And I've been denying her that since she was born.
"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I'm so sorry, Rory. I'm just trying to keep you safe."
"Safe from what?" She leans forward, intense and focused. "You never tell me. You say there are bad people, dangerous people, but you never say who they are or why they want to hurt us."
"Because you're too young—"
"I'm reading at a seventh-grade level!" Her voice rises, frustration bleeding through. "I can shift between forms in less than a second. I can run faster than any human, hear conversations from three houses away, smell emotions on people. But I'm too young to know why we're hiding?"
She's right. Of course she's right.
"The Alpha... your father... he didn't want us. He wanted someone else instead."
Rory is quiet for a long moment. "My father is Alpha?"
"Yes."
"And he rejected us?"
The pain in her voice mirrors the pain in my heart.
"Yes, baby. He did."
"Why?"
"Because he was scared. Because he didn't understand what was happening. Because..." I struggle to find words that explain without condemning. "Because sometimes people make mistakes that hurt the ones they love."
"Do you still love him?"
The question catches me off guard. Do I? After everything he did, everything he put me through?
"I don't know," I admit. "Part of me will always love who he was. But the person he became... I don't know that person anymore."
Rory curls against my side, processing this information with the seriousness of someone much older.
"If we go to sanctuary," she says eventually, "will my father find us there?"
"I don't think so. They have very good security."
"But if he does find us, will you let him take me away?"
"Never." The word comes out fierce, absolute. "No one takes you from me, Rory. No one. Not your father, not any Alpha, not anyone in this world."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
She falls asleep in my arms, but I stay awake for hours, thinking about the choice ahead of me.
Stay in Vancouver, isolated but relatively safe, watching Rory grow increasingly lonely and desperate for connection.
Or go to the sanctuary, give her the childhood she deserves, and risk everything if Mason ever finds us.
It's not really a choice at all.