A distant howl signaled that they had finally reached Shaderunner territory. The sound gave Taylor the first sense of relief that she’d had all evening. She drew in a breath and then exhaled, trying to push out the tension that had taken root within her. Her shoulders sagged a little, but the knots inside of her belly remained firmly in place.

She was exhausted. They all were. Shadow had been the only one to sleep, blissfully unaware of the turmoil between his parents. Everyone else had heard the argument, or at least bits and pieces of it. Hale had left first, storming past the others to go hunt. Taylor had taken a few minutes to collect herself before returning. Glenn and Karin had made awkward attempts at conversation, but their efforts were thwarted by Holly.

“He has a point, you know?” she’d said as she’d passed Shadow off to Taylor. “What good are you if you’re not giving them pups?”

Taylor had shot a scathing look at her but had otherwise kept her mouth shut. She hadn’t wanted to wake Shadow, and she didn’t trust herself not to say something she might later regret.

She couldn’t read Hale’s mood that night. He had remained in his wolf form, barely acknowledging her existence. He might have let her ride his back if she’d asked, but she was too proud and too hurt, so she’d climbed onto Glenn. Despite his recent growth spurt, Glenn was still smaller than Hale and less suited for carrying a grown female, especially over hours of rough terrain. He didn’t complain, but she could tell that he was uncomfortable.

Hale could be petty when he was angry. Sometimes she found herself giving in just to get him out of his funk, but she was tired of always being the first one to apologize. What was more, she didn’t think she was wrong.

Since the very day that Fawn weened herself from the breast, Hale had been pressuring Taylor to ween Shadow so that her monthly cycle would resume. It had been Alder, not Hale, who had wanted to have pups in the first place, but once the twins had come, Hale had thrown himself into fatherhood with surprising alacrity. He and Fawn had been inseparable from the first, and when he wasn’t with his daughter, he was taking Shadow on hunts or teaching his son how to navigate their territory. She knew that he loved being a father, it was plain for anyone to see. Taylor just wished that he could be satisfied with the pups they already had.

They came to a stop as Hale shifted. He had just finished wrapping himself in his furs as the Shaderunner wolves arrived, emerging from the forest to fill the small, snow-patched clearing. There were four of them, two dark-colored wolves that were slightly smaller than Glenn and two humanoid shifters, one of which Taylor recognized.

Taylor had only met Cain once, during the long winter when her pack had been locked in a standstill with the Whiteriver pack. At the time, she’d found him intimidating and not entirely pleasant to be around, though, in all fairness, he had been grappling with the kidnapping of his foster daughter, Snow. He appeared older than Taylor remembered, with streaks of gray winging the sides of his thick brown hair. The lines on his face appeared more pronounced, though there was an undeniable vitality that sparkled in his amber eyes, and age had not stripped him of his powerful muscles and strong bearing. He was also young enough that Taylor could still find him quite attractive. His features were darker, but otherwise quite similar to those of her mates, and she imagined that Alder and Hale would look a lot like Cain in another decade or two.

The female at his side was not Sarah. Taylor knew for certain that she’d never met the dark-haired, freckled woman, but the fact that she seemed familiar told Taylor that she must have been related to Cain and her mates. Indeed, as Taylor drew closer to her, she recognized a few telltale features, particularly her dimpled chin and the feathered contours of her brow. Like Cain, she wore a fitted buckskin outfit, which told Taylor that the den wasn’t far, or at least close enough that they’d made the trek in human form.

The woman’s eyes lit up as she regarded Hale, and after a moment she broke pace with Cain to run forward. Hale’s arms opened just in time for her to fly into them, her arms flinging around his neck.

“Hale, you stupid oaf. Where have you been?”

Hale spit flyaway strands of brown hair from his mouth. “You know where I’ve been, runt. Quit looking over my shoulder. Alder isn’t here. He’s home minding my pack.”

“Oh my goodness, is he yours?” she shrieked, sounding more like an overexcited child than a grown woman.

She released Hale and made a beeline for Shadow, who was sitting at Taylor’s side, cautiously observing the newcomers. Though he generally took his cues from his fathers when it came to strangers he always waited to see how Taylor reacted to them before making his mind up. It was another one of the things she adored about him.

“Hi, you must be Taylor,” the woman said, taking Taylor’s hands in hers. “I’m Hale’s sister, Clover.”

Taylor could feel Shadow bristling at her side, offended by the abrupt physical contact that the stranger had made with his mother. Knowing that it was only a matter of time before he started to growl, Taylor was quick to pull Clover into an embrace.

“Lovely to meet you, Clover. I’ve heard so much about you.”

That wasn’t exactly true. Both Alder and Hale had mentioned Clover on many occasions, but it was usually wrapped up in a story about their pasts. She knew about Clover in a broad sense, but very few specifics. She definitely looked nothing like what Taylor had pictured. The way Alder and Hale spoke of her, Taylor had pictured her as a spritely youth, and not the tall, voluptuous adult that stood before her.

“Look at you!” Clover said, bending down to address the pup. “You must be Shadow!”

While Clover greeted Shadow, Taylor turned her attention to the two alphas, who were sharing a stiff embrace. Though the contact appeared forced when they pulled away there was genuine affection in Cain’s eyes.

“You look well,” Cain said.

Hale's lips slanted. “You look old.”

Cain grinned, the handsome smile shaving a decade from his face. “I’m surprised you brought the pup. Did you bring your daughter as well?”

Ignoring the question, Hale said, “Let’s cut the niceties. What am I doing here, and why did I have to drag her out here in the middle of winter? Or anytime for that matter. Do you know how fucking far this is from my den?”

Hale’s slight was not lost on Taylor. When talking to others, especially other males, he always referred to Taylor as “my mate.” He seldom referred to her by her first name, and never as simply “her.” It was such a small thing, but it made the knots in her stomach draw tighter, and she suddenly felt queasy.

Cain’s smile shrank, his expression hardening into one that was more familiar to Taylor. “I see that fatherhood has done nothing to dull the chip on your shoulder.” He sighed and waved them on. “Come. We’ll talk on the way.”

In Halcyon territory, they occasionally hosted neighboring shifters, mostly Winter, the leader of the northern bear clan, and Trace, the young alpha of a nearby pack. Inevitably, Taylor would find herself being edged out of the conversations between the men and would end up making small talk with another bored, marginalized female. Because of this, she was excited and a bit out of her element when Cain struck up a conversation with her.

“Do you find it overwhelming, to have a pup that is growing so quickly?”

The question surprised Taylor, both because of its abruptness and because it was the first time anyone had asked her.

She gave a slight nod, mindful of the fact that Shadow was close by, albeit occupied by his overzealous aunt.

“A bit, but it’s more exciting than anything else. I got lucky. Fawn is still little, so I get to enjoy having a toddler, but with Shadow, I get to skip over the more boring parts.”

Cain’s smile had returned, though there was a wistfulness to it. “My first son was like that. He grew very quickly. My mate was not pleased.” He scratched the back of his head. “I used to worry that he grew so quickly because we had not done enough to foster a secure childhood for him, but I have since had two sons that have grown just as quickly, and I have no doubt that Sarah and I did right by them.”

It was a surprisingly candid conversation. Taylor wasn’t sure how to respond, and could only nod her acknowledgment.

“I am truly sorry for bringing you away from your home and your pup, and in the winter, no less. I hope the journey was not hard on you.”

“Honestly, it was no trouble at all,” Taylor said, the lie slipping easily from her lips. On reflex, she glanced back at Hale, but his focus seemed fixed on a point ahead of them. She returned her attention to Cain. “I’m sorry, but what was the reason? The letter we received, it didn’t go into detail.”

Cain opened his mouth and then closed it. He didn’t strike her as the sort to struggle with anything, so it was odd to see him so hesitant.

“This past year has been a difficult one for Sarah,” he said. “She—”

“Is she all right?” Hale interrupted.

“Yes,” Cain said, but then added, “and no.”

Clover offered, “She’s not sick or anything, it’s just…”

Cain held up a hand to silence her. “She wanted to speak to you personally. I don’t think she will be pleased if either of us tries to explain on her behalf. But sufficed to say, you are very much needed here and we are grateful that you’ve come.”

While Taylor still had no idea what she was needed for, the mere prospect of someone needing her and not one of her mates was enough to put a spring in her step. Aside from her pups, no one ever seemed to need her for much of anything. It was part of the reason Holly’s insult had hit her so hard. Being human made her one of the most incapable members of the pack, and she had no useful talents or knowledge to compensate for all that she lacked.

She had been correct in her assumption that the den was nearby. It came into view just moments later, a tall pit in the earth. The path leading to it was well-trodden, and Taylor could hear the sounds of many voices chattering within.

Up until that point, Halcyon had been the only den Taylor had ever set foot into. She’d been invited to Whiteriver on many occasions since the two packs had reconciled, but neither of her mates had been willing to let her go. She had always imagined that other dens would be similar to hers—expansive, drafty, and bright in some places, while pitch black in others.

She had not expected the Shaderunner den to be so small, or to be packed with so many shifters. The entryway widened into a large tunnel where dozens of people congregated around fire pits that had been carved into the bedrock. There was no clear path for walking. Cain and Clover had to lead the way, scooping up children as they went.

There were so many children. The median age in Halcyon was somewhere in the late twenties to early thirties, which Taylor had learned was common in a newer pack whose alpha had not yet sired many children. Before Shadow and Fawn had come along, Glenn had been the youngest member of the pack. In the Shaderunner den, Taylor had a difficult time locating anyone that resembled an adult amidst the sea of chubby faces. She had heard that Sarah and Cain had many children together, but unless Sarah gave birth to a whole litter of pups each year, most of them couldn’t possibly be theirs by blood.

“You get used to it,” Clover said, having to raise her voice over the din of chattering children. She must have picked up on Taylor’s shock. “Most of them come from human towns. Sarah has a reputation for taking in strays.”

It took a moment for Taylor to grasp the meaning of what she’d heard, and even then, she felt certain that she must be wrong.

“Strays? They’re not actual puppies. They’re little kids.”

They passed through the main area, the noise steadily subsiding as they went deeper into the den.

“They are both,” Cain said. The way he flexed his jaw reminded Taylor of Alder, when he was doing his best to bridle his anger. “Most grow faster than human children. All of them can shift within a few months, which makes it nearly impossible for their mothers to hide what they are. Even in places where the locals are willing to overlook such children, most human females find it difficult to bond with their pups, and even harder to control them.”

“So their mothers just…”

Taylor let the sentence hang. Shadow was trotting alongside them, his ears perked up, taking in each word. She didn’t think that it had ever occurred to him that a mother could leave her pup, and she had the sudden urge to cut the conversation altogether, but Cain was already responding.

“Not always right away,” he said. “Many come simply wanting advice, but soon recognize that they’re ill-equipped. Some want to be rid of the pups outright. Some pups have been brought to us after being found, already abandoned.”

Taylor couldn’t help but imagine Fawn and Shadow as one of those cast aside pups. Shadow, in particular, was so big and could be very willful at times. It would have been extremely difficult to keep him hidden while living among humans, and without her mates or a pack to support her, she would have been at a loss as to how to raise him. But despite all of that, she couldn’t fathom being able to part with him, or his sister. She would sooner cut off a limb.

She looked over, intending to parse Hale’s opinion from his expression, but he was no longer walking with them. She did a quick turn and found that he had left them somewhere between entering the den and passing through the main corridor. Her heart sank.

“Some mothers do decide to stay with their pups,” Clover said encouragingly. “It doesn’t happen often, but when they do, they’ll usually stay here until we can find a new pack for them. There are a lot of small packs in the region. It isn’t too hard to find an alpha that’s looking for a mate and is willing to take in a pup as well.”

That did make Taylor feel a little better to know, though her heart still ached at the thought of so many children being abandoned. As they walked, she absently stroked the top of Shadow’s head, feeling the need to reaffirm their bond. Her free arm swung limply at her side, and she flexed her hand several times, wishing it could be patting Fawn’s head.

In her mind, she was already ticking off the number of days it would take to be back in Halcyon, with both of her pups snuggled in her lap. Alder would be at her side, and they would talk through the hurt that she was grappling with. Hale would be there, too, finally coming around after his latest outburst. He wouldn’t apologize with words, but she would see it in his eyes. She would forgive him for the things he said, and they would put all of this drama to bed, hopefully for good.

Sarah emerged from a bend in the tunnel, moving so quickly that Cain had to grab her shoulders to keep her from crashing into him. She shot him an appreciative look and then turned to pull Taylor into an embrace.

Unlike Cain, Sarah had not changed much in the two years since Taylor had seen her. She looked considerably narrower though that was because this time she wasn’t heavily pregnant. Her face did seem a bit more shadowed but it could have been a trick of the dim lighting.

“It’s so good to see you,” Sarah said. “It’s been a few months since I’ve heard from you. The twins are doing well?”

Taylor didn’t have to ask which twins. Since Shadow and Fawn had been born, Sarah had been in near-constant contact with Taylor, providing indispensable advice in the form of long, handwritten letters that Halcyon’s resident hawk shifter would deliver. Over the past year and a half, Taylor felt as though she had come to know Sarah like an older sister, which was strange considering they’d met just the once.

She leaned into the hug, relishing the brief closeness of a good friend. “They’re wonderful. How’s Violet?”

Taylor was almost afraid to ask about Sarah’s youngest pup, who had been born just a few months before the twins. Like Fawn, she had been a sickly pup, but where Fawn had rebounded after the first few months, Violet had remained frail, and as of Taylor’s last contact with Sarah, the little pup had yet to shift. She was afraid the urgent summons had something to do with Violet’s poor health, though she couldn’t think of precisely how she could be of help.

“Violet is a champ,” Sarah said, her expression growing fond as she spoke of her daughter. “She’s napping now, but I’ll introduce you later.”

Taylor was relieved, both for Sarah and herself. She was far too emotional to be dealing with a sick pup. She would probably turn into a blubbering mess on the spot.

Shadow had gone back to bristling when Sarah had hugged his mother, but he quickly warmed to his new aunt. Like Clover, Sarah knew to get down to his level when she spoke to him. She also had one of those calm, soothing voices that could naturally put anyone at ease. Within moments, she had coaxed Shadow into shifting, something that even Taylor couldn’t always do.

“You must be the most handsome boy I’ve ever seen,” Sarah said, running her fingers through Shadow’s gold curls. “I hear you have a sister. Do the two of you play a lot?”

Shadow sucked a tooth and then shook his head. “We used to, but she’s too little and I’m too big.”

“That must be tough.”

His head bobbed. “I get bored.”

Even though he possessed the vocabulary of a child more than twice his age, he still had a long way to go with his pronunciation. His beautifully constructed sentences often sounded like garbled babble to the untrained ear, so she was impressed that Sarah could converse so easily with him.

“Well, it’s good that you came to visit me because there are plenty of big pups for you to play with. Would you like for Aunt Clover to introduce you to some of my boys?”

His head bobbed again, this time more vigorously.

Sarah looked to Taylor for approval, and Taylor cheerfully agreed, even though she wasn’t totally onboard with the idea. She didn’t want to keep Shadow from the opportunity to play with other pups, but she did wish she could come along to supervise. Most boys his size would be considerably older, and they might not understand how to interact with Shadow.

Ultimately, she recognized that Sarah was trying to get them alone, so she compartmentalized her worries and saw him off, calling after him with a reminder to play nicely.

Once he and Clover left, Taylor was alone with Sarah and Cain. They exchanged a look, something unspoken passing between them. Cain tucked a lock of glossy brown hair behind Sarah’s ear and then bent to press a kiss to her temple.

“I’ll be close to the den, should you need me.”

He bid Taylor farewell and then left in the direction that they’d come down. Sarah stared after him for a moment and then turned to face Taylor, suddenly appearing uncertain.

“I apologize for dragging you out here in the middle of winter,” Sarah said, her words echoing Cain’s from earlier. “I wouldn’t have done it if I had any other option. I asked all the nearby women that I knew, but they—or their mates—declined. I… Well, we shouldn’t waste time dithering in the hall. Come this way.”

She took Taylor by the arm, guiding her down the tunnel. It was dark in some places and light in others where dim candlelight was ensconced in the walls. Sarah continued to ramble her grievances about the nearby wolf packs, and Taylor found herself growing impatient. She had traveled for over a week, propelled by concern and curiosity, and she was beyond ready to find out what the heck she was supposed to be doing there. She was about to cut Sarah off when the older woman changed the topic with an abrupt statement, the words flying from her like an unhooked fish.

“So, I’m going through menopause now.”

“Huh?” Taylor said, knowing full well that she’d heard her correctly.

“Menopause,” Sarah repeated, sounding oddly cheery and borderline-hysterical. “Weird, huh? I’m not even forty yet and my reproductive system has officially ground to a halt.”

“You’re…sure?” Taylor said, once again struggling to find the right words.

“As certain as I can be. After Violet was born, I ovulated once. Cain and I weren’t quite ready yet, so we thought we’d wait until the following month. Only, the next month, nothing happened. Or the month after that, or the month after that, and so on and so forth.”

“Sometimes it can take a while,” Taylor said. “Are you still nursing? Maybe that’s why…”

She trailed off, feeling silly. Most of what she knew about pregnancy and her postpartum body, she had learned from Sarah. If Sarah thought she was going through menopause, she was probably correct.

“No, Violet was weaned at four months. And it’s never been like that for me. It never mattered if I was breastfeeding or not. As soon as one pup was born, my body was already gearing up for the next one. I’ve given birth while still lactating.”

For some reason, her last statement made Taylor’s nose wrinkle, but she quickly smoothed her expression.

Sarah went on, “It’s more than just not ovulating. A few months ago, I started getting hot flashes. I thought it was just that God-awful summer we were having, but even now I sometimes have to go outside and stand half-naked in the snow to cool myself down. Other times, I’ll wake up soaked with sweat. It’s terrible.”

“I’m so sorry,” Taylor said, placing a hand on her back.

“It is what it is,” Sarah said, heaving a sigh. “We’ve made our peace with it. Well, Cain has. I can’t help feeling like a failure—which I know is stupid. I mean, I’ve given the man fourteen gorgeous children in ten years. I was a phenomenal mate. And now I…”

Sarah paused, her chin quivering. “And now I’m just an old, dried up, useless—”

Holy crap.

Taylor rounded on Sarah, pulling her into a fierce hug. “What are you talking about? Did he say those things to you?”

“No, Cain would never,” Sarah sobbed. “He says he’s fine with it and I believe him, but damn it, I’m not fine with it. I never asked for any of this. All I did was wreck my stupid car, and meet some stupidly hot alpha wolf, and get stupidly knocked up practically the first time we had sex, which pretty much made me stuck here, but I didn’t care because I loved it. I loved being pregnant with Cain’s pups. I loved giving him children and raising them together, and now that’s all over. I don’t even get grandchildren, Taylor. My daughters will never be able to have babies. My sons will all be long gone by the time they take mates. This sucks. This really, really sucks and I hate it.”

By the time she was finished, Taylor’s shoulder was wet with tears and other fluids she’d rather not contemplate. Taylor could tell that she’d been keeping all of this in for a while, and she could understand why. She doubted that any of the females in Sarah’s pack wanted to hear her complain about menopause when they’d never had the opportunity to bear children of their own. It was similar to the problem Taylor faced when she wished she had someone to talk to about not wanting to have more pups. Unfortunately, she didn’t think she would find a sympathetic ear from Sarah either, at least not right now.

“The worst part is,” Sarah began, swiping at her reddened eyes, “that I’m not producing milk anymore. It used to be that when we got a really young pup, I could just put them to the breast. Even if I wasn’t lactating at the time, it was like my body just knew what to do, and within a day or two, I was nursing without any trouble. But this time, nothing is happening. It’s been almost two weeks, and he’s just getting worse and worse. I’ve tried formula. He must be getting a little bit of it down, but he’s mostly just regurgitating it. It’s awful, Taylor. I can’t remember the last time I felt this helpless.”

At once, it dawned on Taylor why she’d been summoned to Sarah’s den.

“Wait, slow down. Are you telling me that there’s a baby that you need me to nurse?”

Sarah gave a tearful nod. “Like I said, I tried asking the nearby packs if they’d take him in. I know of at least three women that might have been able to nurse him, but none of them would take him. I know it’s a lot to ask, and you don’t have to keep him, not for more than a few weeks, anyway. We just have to get him to a point where he can eat solids and—”

Taylor cut her off with a shake. “Sarah, I love you, but please just shut up and take me to him.”