Chapter 33 Unusual Child (cont'd)

Chapter 33 Unusual Child (cont'd)
Over the next three days, I make my decision final.

I call Elena and accept the apartment. She's excited to meet us, promises complete discretion, assures me we'll be safe. We set a move-in date for the following week.

I explain to Margaret, who takes the news with surprising calm.

"I wondered when you'd decide to go," she says. "Rory needs more than Vancouver can give her."

"I can still work remotely, right? You said the sanctuary has internet."

"Of course. I'll adjust your assignments accordingly." Margaret said. 

"Thank you," I whisper. "For everything.”

“Please don't mention.” She said.

The Garcias take the news harder. They're supportive but worried.

"If you need to leave quickly," Rafael says, "you call us. Day or night."

"We will.”

"We'll miss you so much," Carmen says, crying as she helps me pack. "This house won't be the same without Rory's laughter."

"You can visit," I assure her. "Elena said family is always welcome."

"It won't be the same."

She's right. It won't be.

But as I pack our few belongings, as I prepare to uproot our lives once again, I feel something unexpected.

Hope.

For the first time since Mason rejected me, since I lost Lucas, since this nightmare began, I feel genuine hope for the future.

Maybe Rory will have friends. Maybe I'll have a community. Maybe we'll finally have the pack we've been denied.

The night before we leave, I dream of Mason again as I have always done. In the dreams, he's searching for me. Calling my name through dark forests, his voice growing weaker each time. Sometimes I wake with tears on my face. Sometimes with anger burning in my chest.

But this dream is different. Instead of searching for me, he's standing at the edge of a forest, looking broken and lost. His eyes are hollow, his face gaunt, his usual strength completely gone.

"Sage," he whispers into the darkness. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

I wake with tears on my face, Rory watching me with concerned eyes.

"You dreaming about my father again," she says. Not a question—a statement.

"How do you know?"

"Because you cry in your sleep when you dream about him. And you smell sad." She crawls into bed beside me. "Is the mate bond still there, Mama? Even though he rejected us?"

The question is too perceptive for a child not yet one year old. But then, Rory has never been a normal child.

"I think so," I admit. "Damaged, but there. Like a scar that never quite heals."

"Does it hurt?"

"Sometimes.”

"You still love him," she asks point blankly.

"I hate him."

"You can do both. Love and hate aren't opposites. Indifference is the opposite of love." She takes a bite of cereal. "You're a lot of things, Mama, but you're not indifferent."

Three years old and dispensing relationship wisdom like a therapist.

"Maybe if we go to sanctuary, the bond will heal. Or break completely. Then you won't hurt anymore."

I pull her close, marveling at her wisdom. "Maybe you're right, baby. Maybe distance is what we both need."

"Or maybe," Rory says softly, "my father needs to find us. Needs to say sorry. Needs to fix what he broke."

"He doesn't know where we are."

"But what if he did? Would you let him apologize?"

Would I? After everything he did, all the pain he caused, would I even listen to an apology?

"I don't know," I tell her honestly. "Ask me again in a few years."

She seems satisfied with that answer, settling against my side and falling asleep quickly.

But I stay awake, thinking about Mason, about the dreams that won't stop, about the mate bond that refuses to die completely.

Somewhere out there, my mate is suffering. The bond tells me that much, even damaged as it is.

But I have a daughter to protect. A future to build. A life that doesn't include the Alpha who rejected me.

Tomorrow, we leave for the sanctuary. Tomorrow, we start over.

And if Mason ever finds us...

Well. We'll face that crisis when it comes.

For now, I have to trust that Elena is right. That the sanctuary is safe, that its security is solid, that Mason will never breach its walls.

I have to believe that Rory will finally have the childhood she deserves.

And I have to hope that maybe, just maybe, I'll find some peace there too.

The day before we're scheduled to visit Northern Sanctuary, Carmen takes Rory to the library while I finish packing.

I'm folding clothes when my phone buzzes with a text from an unknown number.

'I know you're planning to visit Northern Sanctuary. Don't. It's a trap. Stella has people there. She's waiting for you. -A Friend'

My blood runs cold.

I call Elena immediately. "How many people know we're coming?"

"Just the administrative staff. Maybe five people total. Why?"

"Has anyone new joined the sanctuary recently? Anyone from Washington?"

A pause. "Actually, yes. A woman and her child arrived last week. She said she was fleeing an abusive pack situation. We gave her sanctuary without question."

"What was her name?"

"Sarah. Sarah... Johnson, I think."

Sarah Johnson. A fake name if I've ever heard one.

"Can you describe her?"

"Blonde. Late twenties. Very beautiful. Her child was a boy, maybe four years old."

Stella. It has to be.

"Elena, I need to cancel our visit."

"What? Why?"

"Because I think the woman you gave sanctuary to is actually—"

The line goes dead.

I try calling back. No answer.

I try texting. The messages don't deliver.

Panic rises in my chest. Something is wrong. Very wrong.

I'm reaching for my car keys when there's a knock at the door.

Not a normal knock. A heavy, authoritative pounding.

"Vancouver Police. Open up."

I freeze, mind racing. Why would police be here?

Another knock. "Ms. Mitchell, we need to speak with you about an incident at the library. Please open the door."

The library. Where Carmen took Rory.

I open the door to find two officers standing there. Behind them, a police car. And in the back seat—

Carmen. In handcuffs.

"What's going on?" I demand.

"Are you Sage Mitchell?"

"Yes."

"Do you have a daughter named Aurora Mitchell?"

"Yes. Where is she? What happened?"

The officers exchange glances. "Your daughter was involved in an altercation at the library. Another child was injured. We need you to come down to the station."

"Injured how?"

"We'd prefer to discuss this at the station, ma'am."

I grab my purse and follow them to the car, my heart pounding.

In the back seat, Carmen is pale and shaking. "Sage, I'm so sorry. I tried to stop her. Tried to get her to calm down, but—"

"What happened?"

"A boy. He was older, maybe seven or eight. He kept teasing Rory, calling her names. She told him to stop. Told him multiple times. But he wouldn't listen. He grabbed her book and tore out pages."

"And?"

Carmen's voice drops to a whisper. "And she shifted. Right there in the children's section. Partial shift—just her eyes and claws. But she grabbed his arm. Didn't hurt him badly, just scratched him, but—"

"But someone saw."

"Multiple someones. Parents started screaming. The librarian called 911. I grabbed Rory and tried to leave, but they detained me for child endangerment."

"Where's Rory now?"

"I don't know. She ran. Just shifted into a full wolf pup and ran. I haven't seen her since."

My daughter is out there. Alone. Frightened. Being hunted.

At the station, they put me in an interview room. Two detectives enter—one male, one female.

"Ms. Mitchell, we need to ask you some questions about your daughter."

"Where is she? Is she safe?"

"We're trying to locate her now. Multiple witnesses reported seeing a child transform into an animal. Can you explain that?"

"It was probably a dog. Children's imaginations—"

"We have video, Ms. Mitchell." The female detective slides a tablet across the table. "From a parent's phone."

I watch in horror as the scene unfolds on screen. Rory, her eyes glowing amber. Fur rippling across her arms. Small claws extending from her fingertips.

Then the transformation. Human to wolf in seconds.

The video cuts off as she bolts toward the exit.

"So," the male detective says slowly, "you want to tell us what your daughter is?"

I can't speak. Can't think. Can't breathe.

They have proof. Undeniable, video proof of what Rory is.

And now she's out there, alone and hunted, in a world that will never understand her.

The door to the interview room opens.

A man in an expensive suit walks in, followed by a woman I recognize from photos.

Elena from Northern Sanctuary.

"Ms. Mitchell is under the protection of the Supernatural Covenant Council," the man announces. "Any further questioning requires legal representation, which I'm providing. These detectives are dismissed."

The detectives stare at him. "And you are?"

"Marcus Chen. Attorney specializing in supernatural legal affairs. My client has rights under federal supernatural protection laws, which supersede local jurisdiction." He sets a briefcase on the table. "I have the documentation if you'd like to review it."

The detectives look at each other, clearly out of their depth.

"We'll need to consult with our superiors," the female detective finally says.

"You do that. In the meantime, my client is leaving." Marcus turns to me. "Sage, we need to go. Now."

"Not without Rory—"

"We found her." Elena steps forward. "She's safe. Waiting at Northern Sanctuary with Mark. But we need to move quickly. This video is going to spread. Once it does, you'll have more than just local police to worry about."

I stand on shaking legs. "How did you—"

"Mark called us the moment he heard what happened. We've been monitoring the situation." Marcus ushers me toward the door. "Your daughter is remarkable, Sage. But she's also in danger. Real danger. The kind that comes from humans who fear what they don't understand."

We leave through a back exit, avoiding the growing crowd of reporters gathering outside.

Elena drives us north in a nondescript SUV, taking back roads and logging trails to avoid attention.

"How bad is it?" I ask.

"The video has been shared on social media over fifty thousand times in the last hour," Marcus says from the passenger seat. "News outlets are picking it up. Calling it a hoax, special effects, but..."

"But some people will believe it's real."

"Yes."

I lean my head against the window, watching trees blur past. "And Stella? Was that really her at Northern Sanctuary?"

Elena glances at me in the rearview mirror. "Yes. But she's gone now. Left the morning you were supposed to arrive. Took her son and disappeared."

"She was waiting for me."

"Appears that way. We're reviewing our intake procedures. This can't happen again."

Two hours later, we pull through gates into Northern Sanctuary.

It's beautiful. Vast stretches of forest surrounding a central compound of log buildings. Children playing in courtyards. Adults working in gardens.

Normal. Peaceful. Everything I've wanted for Rory.

Mark meets us at the main lodge. And beside him, looking small and defiant and perfect—

"Mama!" Rory runs to me, throwing herself into my arms.

I hold her tight, breathing in her scent, feeling her heartbeat against mine.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I tried to control it. Really tried. But he just kept—"

"I know, baby. I know." I pull back to look at her. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"No. Just scared." Her eyes well with tears. "Everyone saw, Mama. Everyone knows what I am now."

"I know."

"We can't go back, can we? Can't go back to the apartment, to Carmen and Rafael, to our life."

"No," I say softly. "We can't."

She nods, accepting this with a maturity beyond her years. "So we stay here? At the sanctuary?"

I look around at the compound. At the other children playing without fear. At the adults who understand what we are.

"If they'll have us."

"They will," Mark says firmly. "You're pack now, Sage. Both of you. Welcome home."

That night, they give us a small cabin at the edge of the compound. Two bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room with a fireplace.

Rory explores every corner, her excitement palpable despite the trauma of the day.

"Mama, look! There are other kids here. Wolf kids. Kids like me." She presses her face to the window. "Can I go meet them tomorrow?"

"We'll see."

But I know the answer is yes. Because despite everything—despite the fear and uncertainty and danger—this is what she needs.

What we both need.

I'm tucking her into bed when she asks the question I've been dreading.

"Do you think my father saw the video?"

"I don't know, baby."

"If he did, do you think he'll come looking for us?"

I smooth her hair back from her face. "What do you think?"

She's quiet for a long moment. "I think if he's really dying from the mate bond, seeing proof that you're alive—that I'm alive—might save him. Or it might destroy him completely."

"You're too smart for your own good."

"I know." She yawns, her eyes already drooping. "Mama? Whatever happens with him, with Stella, with all of it—we're going to be okay, right?"

"Yes, baby. We're going to be okay."

She falls asleep within minutes, exhausted from the day's events.

I sit by her bedside, watching her breathe, marveling at this extraordinary creature I brought into the world.

My phone buzzes with a text from Damon.

'He saw it. The video. Sage, he SAW IT. And now he's on his way to Vancouver. Nothing is going to stop him from finding you. Nothing.'

I look down at my sleeping daughter, then back at the message.

Mason is coming.

After three years of running, of hiding, of pretending we could escape our past—

He's finally found us.

And I have no idea if that means salvation or destruction.