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He dropped to his knees beside her, and pulled her into his arms, hugging her fiercely.
“My baby,” she sobbed.
“He’s going to be okay, right?” Teagan whispered.
Though I didn’t know exactly what was going on, something told me that wasn’t the case.
“No. He’s not,” Jesse said quietly.
Ford pulled me even tighter to his back.
Four women came running from the same direction Oscar’s pack had earlier.
“Did he shift?” the one at the front asked, her expression grave.
“He did,” Elliot said in a low voice.
Two of the women wiped at tears in their eyes. Another jogged over to Elliot, reaching for the baby, and they transferred him or her and the carrier over to the woman’s chest instead of Elliot’s.
“We’ll stay with Melody. The two of you, wait for the men to return,” one of the crying women said, to two of the others.
The girl with the baby and the one who had given the order jogged back in the direction they’d all come from.
“What happens now?” Teagan asked Jesse, her voice barely above a whisper.
“We wait for Oscar’s pack to return,” he murmured back.
“Without him.” Ford added quietly.
My throat swelled, and tears stung my eyes. I asked, “Just because her wolf rejected him?”
“A male wolf can only ever have one mate,” Ford said softly, finally releasing his grip on me just long enough to maneuver me around to the front of him. My back nestled to his chest as his arms went around me, holding me securely to him.
I was sure Ford and the other guys wanted to go over to Rocco to hug him or something, but at the moment, he needed to stay with his parents.
Elliot walked back to us, and the remaining two women sat down up against the house, off to the side a good distance from Rocco and his parents. Neither of them moved to go into the forest, and no one else did either.
Dax and Zed showed up soon afterward, with spare blankets and coats for the rest of us. Elliot brought a few of the coats to Rocco and his parents, who waited in the few inches of snow on the ground, clinging to each other.
The rest of our little pack all sat on the edge of the porch, quiet for most of the night, waiting with them though we maintained our distance.
Sometime early in the morning, Oscar’s pack emerged from the forest one by one.
I counted them.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Behind them, the forest was silent.
The wolves walked with their heads down, their movement slow and sad.
