Page 57 of Baby and the Beast

Casimir's hands stilled on the pack he was adjusting. For a moment, he seemed frozen in place.

"What I see," Nash continued softly, "is a man who saved us without hesitation. Who's gentle with a newborn. Who reads her stories and makes sure we're safe and fed." He stroked Copper's fine hair. "That's who you are to us."

Casimir turned, his expression unreadable in the firelight. The silence stretched between them until Nash thought he wouldn't respond at all.

"I've done things," Casimir finally said, his voice rough. "Things I can't take back."

"Haven't we all?"

Outside, the storm intensified. Snow hissed against the windows, and the wind found every crack in the old cabin's walls. Copper stirred, whimpering softly before settling again.

"We should eat," Casimir said, turning away. "Need to keep up your strength."

They ate a simple meal of bread and some dried fruit. Casimir ate the dried meat and gave Nash the protein bars. They both took it in turns to use the basic bathroom, then Nash changed Copper’s diaper and fed her once more. They both managed to get in the bed, just, with Copper in a blanket lined kitchen drawer in between them, so neither of them would roll on her in the night. Nash really didn’t think he would sleep, but he must have.

Baby and the Beast

Chapter Six

Nash bolted upright at the sound, his heart hammering. The howls pierced the darkness—close, too close. Beside him, Casimir was already on his feet, moving silently to the window.

"How many?" Nash whispered, instinctively curling his body around the makeshift crib.

Casimir pressed his eye to a gap in the shutters. "Pack of five, maybe six. Coming up from the valley."

Another howl split the night, answered immediately by several others. Nash felt the sound vibrate through his chest. His fingers tightened on the blanket.

"Are they..." He couldn't finish the question.

"Shifters?" Casimir glanced back at him. "No idea."

Nash swallowed hard. If they were regular wolves, that was one thing. But if they were shifters—if word had somehow reached his father—

"They're hunting," Casimir said, his voice calm and steady. "Maybe following a deer trail, from the looks of it."

"Are we safe here?"

Casimir moved away from the window, checking the door's sturdy bolt. "The cabin's solid. They have no reason to approach."

But Nash saw the tension in his shoulders, the way his hand drifted to the knife at his belt. Copper stirred, making tiny noises that threatened to become cries.

"Shh, little one," Nash murmured, lifting her gently. He held her against his chest, rocking slightly, hoping his own racing heart wouldn't upset her further, then started to feed her, which distracted her enough.

"If they're shifters," Nash said quietly, "they might smell us."

Casimir nodded, his expression grim. "Then we need to mask our scent."

He moved to his pack, pulling out a small leather pouch. "Pine resin mixed with camphor. Hunters use it to stay downwind of deer." He crumbled some between his fingers, then sprinkled it over the cold hearth.

"Will that work against shifters?"

"It confuses the nose," Casimir said. "Won't hide us completely, but might make them think twice about what they're smelling."

The wolves' cries grew louder, then suddenly ceased. The silence that followed was somehow worse than the howling.

"They've found something," Casimir whispered.

Nash clutched Copper closer. She was fully awake now, but mercifully quiet, her wide eyes fixed on his face.

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