Land of Wolves

Chapter 88

Caleb is excited.

He walks ahead of me with Chunks, his pace unhurried and relaxed. Despite all the chatter from the wolves surrounding us, I'm faintly able to make out the sounds of him speaking into the infant's ear. He's probably whispering his excitement at me agreeing that we drive back together.

I feel slightly guilty for refusing his request to care for the little man, especially after our complicated history revolving around having children, but I stand by what I said. Under normal circumstances, I'd love to take in Chunks, but this isn't a good time.

We've just started a fight with a giant organization that has only ever had one goal—killing the wolves. HPAW's spent years building up their militia and securing agreements with the US government, and this is only the beginning.

They sent hundreds of men to the border to try and retrieve the marked humans, and even though we know we're doing this for the right reasons, HPAW is selective over the information they share with the general public. They've probably sent the message that we kidnapped several humans and painted themselves the heroes.

It couldn't be further from the truth, but there isn't anything we can realistically do to sway public human opinion.

They wouldn't believe us if we tried, and the US government is no fucking help. They ignore Caleb's requests to find common ground, and they've happily stepped back and let HPAW run the show since the wolves decided to split from the general population and start their packs in what was once Canada.

Caleb spins around and shoots me a broad smile.

"He farted," he laughs.

What?

"Chunks farted," he elaborates.

I don't think I've ever witnessed somebody get so giddy over a fart, and I raise a brow as Caleb turns back around and continues leading us to the car. He's so weird, and I readjust our bags on my shoulder as I remind myself that I'm angry.

Caleb went behind my back, and I know he's trying to manipulate me into agreeing to keep Chunks. He thinks he'll be able to convince me during this car ride, but it's not going to happen.

The car is parked in an empty lot just down the street from the hotel, and I toss our bags in the trunk while Caleb works on getting Chunks buckled into his car seat. Despite my best attempts not to linger and coo over the tiny being, I can't stop myself from peering over Caleb's shoulder as he straps Chunks in.

The little guy makes a bit of a fuss, his usually happy grin shifting into an angry frown as his body's strapped in. For a moment, his face grows red, the telltale sign he's about to start crying, but Caleb smoothly grabs a pacifier and sticks it between his lips before any noises emerge.

I don't think it will work, but surprisingly, Chunks settles right down.

His big blue eyes shift between Caleb and me as his straps are adjusted, and I wonder how he feels when he sees us. It must be scary to be surrounded by strangers, but I hope he's enjoying all the attention he's been receiving.

HPAW scientists and medical staff aren't known to be the most affectionate, and I doubt any of the children were receiving love and entertainment beyond what's critical for physical and mental development.

"He looks mighty handsome in his onesie, doesn't he?" Caleb asks, double-checking Chunks' straps.

I gulp, glancing at the dark green fabric. It's covered in tiny little wolves, naturally, and it is pretty cute. Once news of the infants was spread, several outfits were donated, and almost half of them sport some sort of wolf pattern.