#CHAPTER 19: Scott Cavendish

Sarah POV Inside the basket was a tiny werewolf pup, pink and perfect with deep blue eyes that instantly claimed me. Why had I not remembered that initial instant connection, the command of those eyes to save her? No wonder putting her in an orphanage was never going to work. “Chloe,” I said, though in my dream I hadn’t yet seen the note. “She is yours to protect,” the tall man said. I looked up, and though it was dim I could clearly see his face. The dream evaporated then, and I was in an unfamiliar bed, swimming in a sea of smells: antiseptic, soap, clean linen, and then, oh praise to the goddess, I puppy-girl scents of Chloe and Grace. I worked to get my eyes open, and there the girls were by my bed, looking clear and scrubbed and injury-free. I sobbed with relief, and they threw themselves into the bed and my arms. Their elbows and knees poked at tender spots on my body, but I didn’t mind. “Mommy,” they were both whimpering. “We were so scared,” Grace whispered.