Page 5 of Fated Wolf's Redemption

“Too soon, perhaps,” he murmurs.

Kylie hides a snort behind her hand, and Oscar shoots me a warning look that I promptly ignore. I motion toward the fire. “You’re welcome to sit.”

Elder Blackwood doesn’t move. “No need. This won’t take long.”

Of course, it won’t. He—and the others on the council—don’t like us. We don’t answer to them, and we ignore the orders, threats and warnings.

My father glances at me before addressing the elder. “We came to the Cascades because something isn’t right. We’re not the only ones who feel it. You know as well as I do that the birthrate crisis is worsening, and yet, the Regional Council does nothing.”

“The council does plenty,” Blackwood says, voice clipped. “And you, as outsiders, have no right to interfere.”

I fold my arms. “Outsiders? I didn’t realize acknowledging reality made us outsiders.”

The elder’s gaze sharpens. “Reality is something you know very little about, girl.”

I grit my teeth, swallowing down the urge to say something that would make my father regret bringing me into this world.

Oscar clears his throat. “What we know is that packs all across the region are seeing birthrates drop. This isn’t just one pack’s problem. It’s all of ours.”

Elder Blackwood lets out a slow breath, as if Oscar’s logic is exhausting to him. “The decline is concerning, but not something we can change by abandoning tradition. Packs have survived worse.”

I stare at him, incredulous. “Worse? How exactly do you think packs are going to survive when children aren’t being born? Hope that the problem fixes itself? Wait until we dwindle down, one by one?”

The elder’s expression remains impassive. “We will endure.”

I glance at my father, but he’s watching the elder carefully, his face unreadable.

“That is not the region’s only problem,” Blackwood continues. “The Crimson Claw is making things more difficult.”

The crackling of the fire is the only sound. Kylie leans forward, her tone lighter than the rest of us. “Oh? What are they up to now? Raiding food supplies? Picking fights over territory they don’t actually own?”

Blackwood’s mouth tightens. “They’re not just stirring trouble. There seems to be something deeper at work.”

I frown. “Something deeper?”

He hesitates, as if weighing whether or not we deserve an answer. “They aren’t natural. They don’t shift like we do. They seem stuck in some kind of feral shift. They are, to put it bluntly, monstrous.”

Silence. I feel a kind of hum between my pack mates, a pulse of shared unease.

Oscar’s voice is careful. “They don’t shift?”

“I can’t explain it,” Blackwood corrects.

“Try,” I say.

“They aren’t like us anymore. They are bigger, faster. There’s been a suggestion that there’s been some kind of manipulated mutation.”

I don’t like the way he says it, like the words themselves don’t sit right in his mouth. “Manipulated?”

He finally moves, stepping closer to the fire as he nods, warming his hands. “It’s unnatural.”

A slow chill runs through me. I exchange a glance with my father, but his expression remains unreadable.

“What do you think is causing it—this mutation?” I ask.

Blackwood watches me long enough that I think he won’t answer. But then his voice drops lower. “Magic. Science. Who knows? All we know is that it is something dark and unchecked.”

I snort. “Oh, that’s just dandy. Who can resist a good curse with a morning hunt?”

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