Page 58 of Baby and the Beast

"If they come," Nash said, "I'll shift. I can run faster than—"

"No." Casimir's voice was iron. "You said yourself what might happen if you shifted now. Copper needs you as you are."

"But—"

"We stay together." Casimir moved to the bed, sitting on the edge. His bulk between them and the door felt like a shield. "If they approach, I'll handle it."

Nash stared at him, taken aback by the fierce protectiveness in Casimir's voice. "How exactly would you 'handle' a pack of wolves?"

"I know these mountains well," Casimir said simply. His hand rested on the hilt of his hunting knife—a gesture that should have seemed inadequate against multiple predators, but somehow didn't.

They sat in tense silence, listening. After what felt like hours, a distant howl rose from further down the valley.

"They're moving away," Casimir said, shoulders relaxing slightly. "Found their prey."

Nash exhaled shakily. "That was too close."

"We should leave at first light," Casimir agreed. "The storm's passed faster than I expected. Clear skies should hold through morning."

Copper had fallen back asleep, milk-drunk and content despite the danger. Nash carefully placed her back in her makeshift crib.

"Try to rest," Casimir said, moving back to his side of the bed. "I'll keep watch for a while."

Nash nodded, though sleep seemed impossible now. He lay down, hyper-aware of Casimir's solid presence beside him, of the small space between their bodies, bridged only by Copper's drawer-crib.

"Thank you," Nash whispered into the darkness.

"For what?"

"For not suggesting I leave her and run. For understanding she comes first." Nash swallowed. "My own family wouldn't have understood that."

Casimir was quiet for so long Nash thought he might not answer.

"Family should protect each other," he finally said, voice rough with something Nash couldn't identify. "That's what makes them family."

Nash closed his eyes, those words settling into his chest like a warm coal. Despite his fear, despite the cold and the wolves and the uncertainty ahead, he felt something he hadn't felt in months—maybe years.

He felt safe.

They set out at dawn, the world transformed by fresh snow that sparkled under a clear blue sky. Casimir carried Copper again, her tiny form secure against his chest. Nash moved with renewed determination, his body still sore but strengthened by a night's rest.

"The wolves?" Nash asked as they trudged through calf-deep drifts.

"Headed south," Casimir replied. "We're going east. Should be fine."

The going was slower than the day before, the new snow forcing them to break trail. Casimir led, his powerful frame carving a path that Nash followed gratefully. They paused only for Nash to feed Copper and for brief rest stops when Casimir insisted, though Nash would have pushed on.

By midmorning, they crested a ridge, and Casimir pointed to a ribbon of black cutting through the white landscape below.

"The highway," he said. "Three hours, maybe four."

Nash's heart leapt. "And from there?"

"We follow it south. Eventually reach a truck stop where we can hitch a ride. If we're lucky, straight to Asheville."

Nash scanned the horizon, hope building in his chest. "Will anyone pick up three strangers in this weather?"

"You'd be surprised," Casimir replied. "Truckers get lonely. And they gossip. One of them might know something about this rescue center, even if they don't know what it is."

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