2. Maia
2
MAIA
I don’t know how long it takes me to snap out of my panicked state. It might’ve been when the tiny wolf curled up into a small ball inside my baby’s crib, or it might’ve been when it howled softly in its sleep. But I do know that this fucking vermin needs to get out of my house.
Whoever took my child and left this... this thing , isn’t funny at all. It’s one thing being so pathetically low that you’d steal a newborn baby from its mother, but to replace it with a dirty, flea-ridden animal? You’ve got to be psychotic.
Seriously—a wolf? Where the fuck has a kidnapper found a baby wolf? One of this size probably has its own mother that will be missing it.
My thoughts are racing, my mind unable to truly focus on what is important, and it takes me nipping my arms to pull me out of the anxiety spiral. I can’t be drawn into the unstable current that is my emotions again. The longer I mess around, the further away that fucker can get with my baby.
I run through to the kitchen to grab my phone, my footsteps even heavier than normal, and immediately dial for the police. My hands are shaking, my eyes blurry, but the unmistakable nine is easy to click. I ignore the mild cramping in my stomach that reminds me that Phoebe is only five days old and instead try to focus on blocking out my fears. She can’t be far. It’s not been that long.
Right?
The phone rings three times before there’s a soft click, followed by a professional voice. “Hello, this is Amanda at the dispatch team. Do you require an ambulance, the police, or the fire brigade?”
“The police. I need the police,” I cry softly, clutching the phone desperately at my ear. My words are hurried, panicked, even. No matter how calm I try to be, I can’t ignore my worry. “She’s gone. Someone has taken my daughter.”
The tone of the lady immediately changes from distantly professional to alert. “How old is your daughter, miss?”
“Five days old,” I cry, and I hear her sharp inhale of breath as her fingers rapidly type on a keyboard. I hope she’s telling everyone and their mother that there’s a missing child. I need my daughter found. Now. “She’s gone. She was in her crib in the living room, I was in the kitchen for a second, and now… she’s gone. Someone has taken her. Please. Send someone. I can’t… I need her back. She’s going to be hungry, and they can’t feed her. She doesn’t take a bottle. Please. I need her back.”
“Are you in danger?” she asks, but I shake my head, muttering some kind of negative. She types some more before asking, “Is there someone at your property with you?”
“No. It’s just Phoebe and I,” I choke out. The word feels bitter, and my stomach churns. I shouldn’t have been alone. Ryan should’ve been here with me, he could’ve protected us. He could’ve made my food whilst I watched her. I nip my forearm again, drawing blood with the act, but it seems to push the panic further out of my mind and gives me the chance to refocus on this conversation. My voice is calmer when I speak now, although my heart is still pounding. “I’m alone, I think, and I’m safe. But my daughter is not.”
“An officer will be there momentarily,” she says, mirroring my calm. “We’re tracing your phone, and we’ve got units moving to your location now. What’s your name, Miss?”
“Maia. Maia Blake.”
“Okay, Maia. Where are you now?”
“The kitchen.”
“Stay in the kitchen, if that’s possible, just until the police arrive.” I nod, and I hear a click of her computer mouse. “Has anything unusual happened? I know that she’s gone, but are there any signs of…” She trails off, and I can detect embarrassment in her tone.
Was she going to ask if there’s foul play? As if my newborn baby could fight back?
Of course, there’s foul play.
I take a deep breath. “Um, they… there’s a wolf in her crib. They, whoever did this, took my child and left a wolf in her place,” I say before breaking down into tears once more. My heart physically aches as I sob down the line, and I can feel the coldness seeping in.
I lost my fiancé. He was taken before his time. Some say it’s not the length of the life but the quality of it, but Ryan deserved more .
And now my daughter— his daughter— is gone, too.
The world is too fucking cruel.
“There’s a wolf in my house where my baby should be,” I whisper through my tears. “There’s no baby. My baby is gone.”
She doesn’t complain when I repeat myself over and over, just continues to type away on her computer. Eventually, her typing stops, and we sit there in a deafening silence.
There’s a knock on the door that shatters the silence, and my scream escapes without my permission, a guttural reaction echoing the fear that is gripping at me.
The dispatch lady—Alice? Mandy?—tries to reassure me that it’s just the police, that it’s safe to answer. But it’s not until she utters that they’re here to help me find Phoebe that her words break through my panic .
I hang up on her, unable to even bring myself to say thank you, and drag myself through the living room to the front door, ignoring the soft whine from the wolf in the crib that’s going to need replacing once Phoebe is home.
My heart is pounding, and I’m terrified. Terrified, they can’t help. Terrified that she’s hurt.
Or worse.
Why would someone do this? Why would someone take her?
I yank open the front door, and I freeze when I see two identical officers standing in front of me. They’ve got short dark brown hair, an identical beard—even down to the trim length—and bright blue fitted uniforms with Police sprawled across them. They’re at least a head taller than I am, and their faces have similar expressions of concern etched into them.
My vision is blurry from the tears, and I can’t trust my eyes. Surely, they’re not this identical. Is this… am I seeing double?
Hell, maybe this is another hallucination. Maybe it’s all fake.
It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen someone who couldn’t possibly be there.
“Maia Blake?” the man on the left asks, pulling out a small pocket notebook. The fact that the other man doesn’t do the same thing proves I’m not seeing double. I’m just facing the most identical twins to ever exist, it seems.
“Yes.” My empty tone only mimics how I feel. It’s like there’s no more warmth within me, just an empty, dead soul. Losing Ryan destroyed me, but it never hurt this much. Losing the little girl I’ve grown, the only living thing that’s tied to the fiancé I lost… it’s indescribable.
“I’m Officer Patrick Daniels, and this is my brother, Officer Garrett Daniels. Can we come in, Miss Blake?” he asks, and I nod slowly, wrapping my arms around myself.
Why aren’t there more officers with them? Where is their car? Why aren’t they as worried as I am? How can they come to the house of a kidnapped infant and seem so nonchalant?
“We’re twins,” the second officer—Garrett—unhelpfully supplies. Obviously, I can see that . “We heard there was a wolf on the property that may need handling. May I…?” He trails off, and it takes me a second to figure out what he wants.
“It’s through there,” I say, pointing to the living room door. Garrett goes through to handle the rabid offering from the psychotic kidnapper, and I break down into sobs. Patrick reaches over to tentatively rub my back, offering soothing words. There’s nothing soothing here, but he’s trying, and that’s something I’m sure I’ll be grateful for once everything is how it should be.
Eventually, Patrick leads me through to the kitchen, going the opposite way through the house so that we don’t need to go past the living room. I sit down on the stool in front of the pie I had just pulled out of the oven before my entire day was ruined.
Steam is still rising off of it, so it couldn’t have been that long since she was snatched from her home. Patrick grabs me a bottle of water from the fridge and encourages me to take a few sips as he leans against my countertop. He’s so nonchalant, there’s no urgency about him.
My child has been taken. Why isn’t he bothered?
“I don’t need water,” I sob, shaking my head as I shove the bottle away from me. “I need you to find my daughter.”
“We have officers already casing the neighbourhood, Maia. But I need you to calm down and work with us so we can do our best to help your daughter, okay?”
I nod, even though I don’t feel okay. None of this feels okay. He gestures once more to the water and, in a deep voice, commands me to drink it. I don’t try to argue this time and snatch up the bottle to gulp some down.
It does help me calm down a little, although I won’t admit that .
“There we go. Can you recount what has happened?” he asks, and through my giant breakdown, I tell him everything from me returning home from the doctors until the moment he got here. He nods slowly, some kind of realisation hitting him as I speak, and somehow, he’s even less concerned than he was when he arrived.
Before I can ask what realisation he’s come to, Garrett comes into the room holding the wolf in his arms ever so delicately. The horrid thing is curled up as he strokes over it’s back, and bile rises in my throat.
He doesn’t even look my way, his tone urgent. “We need to call the Luna, Pat.”
“Get it out of here,” I screech, instantly losing my calm as I see the shitty offering the kidnappers have given me. “Take it away from me!”
“Maia, take a breath,” Patrick says, but I can’t. I can’t look away from the wolf with eyes as grey as my daughter’s. Vomit rises, but I choke it back, blinking away the tears.
I want it out of my house.
I need it out of my house.
“Look at me,” he barks, and surprisingly, my eyes snap to his. I can’t resist the pull, the kind of aura he’s emitting is dangerous. He’s irresistible.
“Silence,” he adds in that same dominant tone of voice. The Northern accent in his words fades away here.
I fall to silence, my mouth opening and closing, but no words are able to come out. What the fuck? I scratch at my throat, the panic bubbling over, but my body physically cannot produce a sound.
What has he done to me?
“Relax.” That same magnetic growl to his words sends tingles across my body—and not in a good way. My body betrays me, and although my mind is still racing, the physical feelings of panic are gone.
“This wolf is your daughter,” Garrett says, lifting up the sleeping wolf so that it’s in my line of sight, and my mouth drops open. What the fuck? “I know you might not believe me?—”
Logically, I want to argue, to protest, and I know my body is fighting against the urge to panic, but I can’t. I eye Patrick warily, but he doesn’t even look my way.
“She definitely doesn’t.” Garrett’s twin sounds amused, with a smirk on his face.
“Fuck off, Patrick,” Garrett says without breaking eye contact with me. He’s got a stern expression on his face, but there’s some concern there, too. “We’re werewolves, Maia. Since you’re human, I’m assuming the baby’s dad is the werewolf. I know this must be hard, but we’re telling the truth. Werewolves are real, and your daughter is one of us.”
I open my mouth to speak, but words just won’t come out. I can’t speak, I can’t protest, I can’t panic . I wish I could argue.
“Where is your husband?” he asks almost kindly. He doesn’t let up on the intense eye contact, his tone demanding an answer from me. Alas, I cannot give one. I point to my mouth, hoping my eyes show him how badly I disbelieve him. “Patrick, if you could, please?”
The first Officer sighs, rubbing the back of his neck as he gives me a sheepish look. “Sorry. You can speak. Please answer Garrett’s questions, Maia.”
“What the fuck was that?” I demand, inching away from him and his weird fucking brother as soon as that weird hold has disappeared over my vocals. “I want you both to leave, and take that thing with you.”
Garrett reaches for me, the wolf still in his hands, and I scream, scooting back off the stool. It clatters to the floor, and the fear that was hiding away at his command has come back in full force. My legs are trembling, and I don’t think they’re going to be able to hold me up for very long.
But then, there’s movement from the wolf in Garrett’s arms, and I lose all of the issues I had. Because my scream triggers the wolf in his hands to morph into something impossible.
Something not human.
The wolf morphs into my baby girl.
Whose cry has caused my tits to leak.
Fuck.
My head slams into the floor, and everything goes black.
“ S he’s waking up,” a gentle voice says as my eyes fly open. My vision is a little fuzzy, with more black spots than actual vision. My brain is slowly waking up, coming out of the foggy sleep haze, and I hate how groggy I feel.
There’s a strong smell of something pungent, and I bat the hand away from my nose that smells like it. I look at the offensive thing, and it’s a small tube being held by a pale, masculine hand. I sit up and scoot away from it, not sure what’s going on.
I rub my eyes, seeing the vague outline of a man. He’s big, but crouched by me on the sofa, he feels a little less intimidating.
“They’re smelling salts,” the gentle voice continues, and I nod slowly. I look around the living room, spotting a police officer holding my daughter. My memory jogs to fill in the blanks, and I remember everything that happened.
Fuck.
I’m assuming Patrick carried me through here, which makes me a little uncomfortable. I don’t know how long I’ve been unconscious or what was discussed whilst I was out. I hate the unknown.
Phoebe’s being held by Garrett, I think, unless they swapped whilst I was unconscious. The other twin is crouched down beside me, a placid expression on his face.
Phoebe is content, which is strange because she was crying the last time I saw her.
When she changed from being a wolf to being my child.
Because she’s a werewolf.
Apparently, just like her daddy was.
Fuck.
“Look, little baby,” Garrett murmurs, moving the finger Phoebe is clutching onto to point to me. I try not to flinch. Those grey eyes of hers don’t budge from him, but mine are fully focused on her. “Mama’s awake, little pup.”
It wasn’t a dream.
It wasn’t even a hallucination.
“She’s a werewolf.” My voice is calm and steady, weirdly, just like my body. It seems that whilst I was unconscious, my brain has adjusted to the new status quo and doesn’t seem as panicked any more.
Get back with the programme, brain, this is fucking terrifying.
“She’s a werewolf,” Officer Daniels confirms. As he leans forward, I see the name“Patrick” engraved on his badge, not having noticed that earlier in my distress. He and his twin are young, maybe around my age, and quite handsome. You know, if you find a man in uniform attractive. They’re both built very strongly with broad shoulders and thick thighs.
Is that largeness a werewolf trait?
They both have easy smiles and calming personalities. It feels unnatural for them to be this identical. I wonder if their badges are a standard part of the uniform or if it was implemented specifically for these carbon copies.
Their poor… werewolf mother.
“And you’re not surprised,” I say, my tone still devoid of any emotion.
“No, Maia, we’re not.” I’m watching Phoebe, so not sure which of the twins replied since their voices are just as identical as their physical selves, but it makes no difference either way. Their answer is unwelcome.
“And why is that?” I ask, but I already know the answer. They’re just like her—like my daughter.
“Because we’re werewolves, too, remember?”
I nod quietly. I can feel the burning in the back of my throat, the sting in my eyes, but I shove those emotions down. I will not lose it again.
Werewolves are real. My daughter is one.
This is my new reality.
“So what happens now?” I ask, grateful my heart rate has remained steady despite my unease. I don’t want these men hearing my heart rate and thinking I’m weak. “What do I do the next time my daughter turns into a… into a werewolf?”
The twins share a look, and Garrett moves closer. He offers me my child, and I don’t hesitate in snatching her—you know, as gently as possible so that she doesn’t get hurt. She’s content as she comes into my arms, and I wonder how different she is from a human baby.
Can she smell me better? Can she see me better? Hear me better?
No, Maia, this isn’t the Little Red Riding Hood, for fuck’s sake.
She’s not going to eat you.
I unlatch my top, not caring about either police officer as I feed my nipple to her. She’s resistant at first, not because she doesn’t want it, but because she’s still learning how to feed and her latching technique is still a little slow.
As soon as she latches, I can feel the relief in my tits, and I cuddle her in close. I didn’t know I needed this, but having her back in my arms, cuddling close, soothes the pain I felt about losing her. I thought she was gone, that someone took her from me, but she wasn’t.
She was here the whole time. She was acting on instinct, but I didn’t know.
My baby is a werewolf… and I have no idea how to help her .
With a sigh, I look back up at the men. Garrett is on the other side of the coffee table, and Patrick’s on my side, just hovering. They seem a little unsure, but they most definitely have themselves together more than I do.
“This is above our pay grade, little mama,” Patrick says. I frown at the moniker and ask him who could tell me about this then. “Werewolves operate in packs of, well, other werewolves. We have leaders—our alphas and our luna. They’ll be the ones that can help you.”
“Alphas, plural?” That’s not something I’m used to hearing. Animals in the wild have one alpha, right?
Garrett nods. “Yes. Some packs may just have one, but for us here, we’ve got three.”
My frown deepens. “That makes no sense. How can you have three alphas but only one luna? Are they all equal to each other in terms of power?”
In the wild, there is only one alpha, and the same occurs in romance books.
You know, the kind of books that I used to believe were fiction .
“That is another thing above our pay grade,” Patrick says with a genuine laugh. “But our luna is going to be able to help guide you.”
“And why would she do that? What’s in it for her?”
“A few things, actually. The first is that, technically, your daughter is a rogue, and that’s a dangerous thing to be in this world. By taking you and her in and providing guidance, we’re eliminating that threat,” Garrett says.
A rogue? I’ve read my fair share of romance books, and rogues are usually dangerous wolves who were exiled from their pack.
Not tiny little babies who can’t even walk or speak yet.
“What threat?” I demand. The brother’s share a look, and as one, shake their heads.
“Our luna will share that with you,” Patrick says firmly. “ You’re going to need extra guidance to know how to handle her in her wolf form.”
“That definitely wasn’t just a one-off?” The headache that formed from the very dramatic bouncing of my skull on the floor is growing in intensity, but I know we’re far from done with this, so I just need to suck it up.
They both shake their heads, but it’s Garrett who continues speaking. “As a babe, Phoebe is relying on her instincts to guide her. She’ll shift from form to form during highly emotional states. As she grows, she’ll get a better control over it, but the likelihood is she won’t have true control over herself until after her teenage years.”
“Adults can also shift by accident in highly emotional situations,” Patrick says. “But for the most part, she’ll be in control.”
“I see.” I rub at my temples and watch as the men do an awkward shuffle practically in unison. “Sit. Please.” Patrick gently lowers himself into the armchair, whilst Garrett drops down onto the other sofa.
“Now, where is your husband? We need some information from him,” Patrick asks a little more abruptly than I’ve come to expect from him.
“Fiancé,” I correct almost absentmindedly. I watch Phoebe’s soft suckles, wishing I could have her ignorance. “What kind of information are you after, specifically?”
The two officers exchange looks of confusion, but I leave them to their silent conversation and wait.
“His full name, his place of origin, any contact information for his next of kin,” Garrett says.
“I was his next of kin, but he doesn’t need one now since he’s dead.”
“Fuck,” Patrick hisses, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “He’s dead?”
I nod. “What else did you need again? Oh, yes, family information. He’s an only child and doesn’t have contact with his parents. They’ve been estranged since he was younger.”
“But you know about them?” Garrett asks, my gaze bouncing between the two of them. This is the first time I’ve noticed a difference. There seems to be some relief in Patrick’s gaze, whereas Garrett’s eyes are narrowed, his brows pinched together. “Do you know where they are from?”
“I know they’re alive,” I say slowly. “But that’s it. Why?”
“Because for him to be living here, he’d need to be registered as a rogue unless he was in hiding, and that’s just impossible. We’ve got no record of a rogue, and there’s no way we’d not have scented an unregistered wolf in the… how long had you been living here for before he died?”
“Um, we never lived here together. I moved here once Ryan died so I could have a fresh start. I’ve only been in this town for the last six months or so.” They exchange annoyed looks, but I can’t tell what their frustration is for. “Why are you mad?”
“As Phoebe was born here, in our pack bounds, we’re legally allowed to adopt her into our pack,” Patrick says slowly as if he’s unsure how much he can share with me. “But that can be contested by Ryan’s birth family during her first year of life, which is why we need to know who he is and where he came from so that our alphas and luna can decide on how to proceed.”
“Right.”
If this is the case, though, why would they—these mysterious leaders—offer to take her in as one of theirs in the first place? If Ryan’s family—his evil, abusive family—could contest this, surely, it’s easier to just send us on our way and wipe their hands clean of the situation?
“Look, let’s all head over to the alpha’s place. They’ll be able to answer your questions thoroughly and give you the information that we can’t,” Garrett says.
I consider it, and after a few more back and forth questions, I agree. One of my conditions is that I drive myself, and they’re not welcome in my car. The men simply laugh and reassure me that they’ll get a car dropped off, since they had run here in their wolf forms.
It seems that the people canvassing the neighbourhood never actually existed. Typical.
I let Phoebe finish her feed, refill her nappy bag from where we used things earlier at the doctor’s office, and then the four of us head out. The untouched pie is left on the counter, but I don’t feel hungry in the slightest.
I’ll reheat some once I’m back.
I lock up the house before heading to my car, carrying Phoebe’s car seat in one hand and her nappy bag on my other shoulder. Patrick offers to help, but I shake my head.
I buckle Phoebe into the car properly, and through the windshield, my eyes spot something impossible standing on my doorstep. An outline of a man who is grinning at me.
One so familiar my heart races in excitement. And when he waves, my own smile widens.
I quickly adjust Phoebe, rushing to make sure she’s correctly buckled in so that I can see him properly, this time. I slam the door closed, but when I look back at the spot he was standing in, he’s gone. My eyes rake over the area, trying to spot the familiar blond hair, but he’s nowhere to be found.
Another hallucination, then.
“What’s wrong, Maia?” Patrick asks, sniffing the air deeply through the passenger window of the police car.
“Nothing. I was just checking that I closed the bedroom window,” I murmur, and he nods as I get into my car. I push all thoughts of Ryan out of my mind and follow the police car in front of me as we head to get answers.
My daughter may not be human… but, on the positive side, this might all still be a hallucination.