Wild Sign

EPILOGUE

Outside, the first snowstorm of the season was whistling through the trees, turning the world white. Inside, Charles had a guitar out and was singing Gordon Lightfoot songs. Anna was knitting an afghan that she intended as a Christmas present for her dad. Flames danced in the fireplace.

Someone knocked fiercely on the door, startling both of them.

Charles put his guitar aside. He didn’t make it to the door before it opened—letting in a blast of arctic cold and a fair amount of snow before his brother, Samuel, shut it. Seeing him home and safe relieved a worry that always lurked in Charles’s heart when those he loved were away.

“Samuel,” Charles said. “Welcome.”

Samuel looked rough. He hadn’t shaved for quite some time, and there was a white scar that ran from his temple down the side of his face and disappeared into his scruffy beard. It took a lot to scar a wolf; Charles was pretty sure that anything connected to Doctors Without Borders wouldn’t manage it. He had no doubt that his brother had worked with the organization, but Charles decided the feeling that they weren’t getting the whole story of where Samuel had been and what he’d been doing was verified in his brother’s face. Samuel’s eyes were tired.

“Would you do something for me?” Samuel asked.

“Yes,” said Anna immediately. “Samuel, what’s wrong?”

“Anything,” Charles agreed. “You know that.”

“Keep her safe,” he said. He unzipped his coat, dropping it to the floor so he could take off the sling he wore across his chest. He handed the baby, still the size of a newborn, to Charles.

She blinked up at Charles with vague baby eyes. Like most babies’ eyes, they were blue. She was warm and dense, as babies were. Her skin was a little flushed from being tucked against Samuel’s body.

Charles lifted his eyes to Samuel’s.

“I told you I might have a solution for you. For your need for a baby,” said Samuel. He tried to smile. Charles saw that it wasn’t just the weather making the whites of his eyes red. “I need you to take care of her. To raise her as your own. No one can know she’s Ariana’s daughter.”

“We’ll protect her with our lives,” Anna said firmly. “You know that. You and Ariana could stay here with her. Our pack will do anything to make you safe. Bran would do anything.”

“She’s a maker,” Samuel said. “The fae have not had a maker since Ariana bound her power into the last artifact she made. One of the fae found out—Ariana will take care of him. But if he knows, if he told anyone . . .” His voice trailed off. “If the fae have the ability to make great artifacts again, that would be a game changer for them. She is safer with you. My daughter, Ariana’s daughter, has to die. Our child would never be safe.”

“Are you hungry?” said Anna. “Can you stay for the night?”

Samuel shook his head. “It’s not safe for her. No one can know I was here.”

“Da?”

Samuel lifted his head, staring in the direction of their da’s house. “Da already knows. He’s on his way, but I can’t stay. Give him my love.” He hesitated and his eyes found his daughter’s face. “I’ll come when I can. Uncle Samuel can visit.”

“Okay,” said Anna. “We will keep her safe for you, Samuel. What’s her name?”

“Call her what you like.” Samuel picked up his coat and put it on. “Her mother gave her a name, but the fae don’t use their true names for a reason.” He gave Charles that heartbreaking almost-smile again. “I don’t have to tell you to love her.”

“No,” Charles agreed.

She is ours, said Brother Wolf. Samuel hugged Anna, resting his head on top of hers for a moment, as if drawing strength. Then he hugged Charles, too. Samuel kissed the top of his baby’s head. He rested his face against hers, inhaling audibly. Then he backed away several steps before he turned on his heel and went back out into the storm.