Astrid and I have fallen into a quiet routine, keeping mostly out of sight when we can. I take her with me during work when Caleb is out, then for walks to get her energy out afterwards. I avoid Caleb’s path when he’s out monitoring theborders, and I do everything in my power not to make things worse.
Still, it’s impossible not to feel the cracks spreading through everything we built, and everything that felt so close to healing. Now, it’s slipping away, and I don’t know how to fix it.
Tonight, Astrid sits on the edge of the bed between my legs while I braid her hair. Her legs swing back and forth while she hums under her breath, both cheerful and oblivious. For a long while, I watch her, glancing down at her almost black hair in my hands, and my stomach clenches with guilt.
I told Caleb the truth, but I still haven’t told Astrid. She deserves to know.
Finishing up the braid, I pull in a breath and shift around on the bed until I’m on the floor in front of her, taking her hands in mine.
“Sweetheart, I need to tell you something important.”
She looks at me with those green eyes that look so much like mine; it likely threw Caleb off his suspicions initially. “Is it a bad something?”
Despite how my throat threatens to close around the words, I force it not to. “It’s a big something.”
At that, she nods with a slight tilt of her head.
Willing myself to come out with it, I take a deep breath and idly rub my thumbs against the back of her little hands. “Astrid… Caleb isn’t just a friend we’re staying with. He’s… your father.”
The words hang in the air for a long moment while she processes, blinking back at me curiously. Then her brows knit in confusion.
“I thought you said I don’t have a daddy.”
“I said you didn’t have one here with us,” I correct gently, hating how this all has to be confusing for her. “But you do have one. You always have… he just didn’t know you were his. But now he does.”
Astrid sits with it for a long time, looking down at the blanket under her. “Is he mad?”
My heart aches at the question, and I gently brush a hand down her arm. “Not at you, honey… never at you.”
Her eyes meet mine again. “Is he mad at you?”
Pain pulses in my chest, but I swallow hard and nod. “Right now, yes.”
“Are we leaving?”
The small words are more gutting than she could ever know.
“No, we’re not leaving,” I murmur, gently brushing a finger against her cheek. “We’re safe here.”
A small part of me isn’t so sure if it’s the truth, but I don’t let her see my doubt.
She nods, frowning slightly in thought. She reaches for the blanket and plays with the frilled ends. “I like Caleb. He feels warm.”
Warm. Safe.
Just like how he made me feel before everything started crumbling again.
“I know, sweetheart,” I say gently, brushing a light kiss to her forehead. “He cares about you very much.”
Before I can focus on keeping myself together, a chill scurries down my neck, and goosebumps rise along my arms.
A moment later, Astrid stills, and her gaze instinctively flicks toward the window, unblinking.
“Mommy,” she says quietly, sounding so small. “There are wolves outside.”
That makes my blood run cold.
But as I look at them myself, I catch the brief blurs of fur as they move by through the twilight, and I pull in their scents before I do anything.
