Chapter 91

Chapter 91: Chapter 91

The carriage had barely left the estate when Evelyn turned to Soren.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked.

He glanced at her, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. "Would you like me to tell you, or would you prefer to be surprised?"

"I prefer knowing where I’m going."

"Of course you do." He settled back against the seat. "I should have remembered that you dislike being kept in the dark."

"Then I suppose I should reassure you that I have no intention of abducting you."

"Comforting."

Soren laughed, and Evelyn found herself smiling despite her best efforts.

For the first part of the journey, they spoke about ordinary things. He asked about the progress of her healing house, and she told him about the delays with the building materials. He listened without interrupting, offering a suggestion about a supplier in Ashbourne who might be able to help.

It was an unexpectedly pleasant conversation.

Evelyn had anticipated awkward silences, perhaps a few overly personal questions, or Soren trying too hard to make her see him as a potential partner. Instead, he seemed content to talk to her as he always had, without demanding that she give him anything in return.

She was beginning to wonder where they were going when Soren’s expression changed—as though he’d received a message that didn’t quite sit well with him.

Her brows furrowed. "Anything wrong?"

"Something that needs my attention." He read the message again, his brows drawing together. Then he looked at her. "I’m sorry. I hadn’t intended to bring this into our afternoon."

"Bring what?"

"I need to stop somewhere. It shouldn’t take long, but I don’t want you to think I’ve brought you here only to abandon you."

Evelyn studied him for a moment, seeing how serious and apologetic he was. She nodded. "Then take care of whatever it is. I can wait."

"Are you sure?" He asked further. He’d planned the entire day perfectly, not for seeing this one thing.

"Yes, Soren. It’s fine."

He gave her a grateful smile and instructed the driver to change their destination. They left the busier part of the town behind, passing rows of houses and stalls before turning onto a quieter road. Eventually, the carriage slowed in front of a large, weathered building.

It wasn’t particularly impressive from the outside. The paint around the windows was peeling, and one section of the roof appeared to have been repaired recently. A small garden stretched along the front, with several flower beds.

Children’s voices drifted through the windows.

Evelyn looked at Soren, slightly confused. "This is where you needed to come?"

"Yes." He hesitated before offering his hand to help her down. "I promise I’ll explain everything. For now, would you mind waiting inside? There’s a sitting room where you can make yourself comfortable."

Evelyn said nothing to that. She stepped down from the carriage, and he led her through the front gate.

The moment they entered the building, a woman in a simple blue dress hurried toward them. She looked relieved to see Soren. She nodded at Evelyn before turning her attention back to Soren.

"Alpha, thank goodness you’re here. We received the supplies, but there’s a problem with the arrangements for the children arriving tomorrow."

"Tell me what happened."

The woman lowered her voice, and Soren turned his attention to her. Within moments, he was discussing arrangements, asking questions, and giving instructions with the efficiency of someone who had handled such matters many times before.

Evelyn stood quietly to one side. She had assumed he was dealing with a pack matter. It was clearly more complicated than that.

"I’ll be back shortly," he told her after a few minutes. "Please, make yourself at home."

Evelyn was left alone in the reception area. She glanced around, taking in the modest furnishings, the books stacked on a low table, and the colorful drawings pinned to the walls. There were pictures of houses, trees, flowers, and people holding hands. One particularly enthusiastic artist had drawn a purple wolf with six legs.

She smiled. The place wasn’t luxurious, but it felt lived in and safe.

A burst of laughter came from the room at the end of the corridor, followed by the sound of small feet running across the floor.

Evelyn turned just as a little girl with two uneven braids appeared in the doorway.

The girl stopped when she saw her.

"Hello," Evelyn greeted her.

The child stared at her for a moment before taking a few cautious steps closer. "Are you visiting Alpha Soren?"

"I am."

"Are you his friend?" she asked, head tilted sideways.

Evelyn paused. "I suppose I am."

The girl considered that answer, then tilted her head. "You look like a fairy."

Evelyn blinked. "Do I?"

The girl nodded seriously. "A pretty one."

Before Evelyn could respond, another child appeared behind her.

"She does! Look at her dress." Soon, three more children had gathered around, their curiosity overcoming whatever shyness they might have initially felt.

Evelyn found herself crouched among them within minutes, answering questions about where she’d come from, what her name was, whether fairies really existed.

"I’m afraid I’m not actually a fairy," she admitted, earning a chorus of disappointed groans. "Just a healer."

"That’s almost as good," the braided girl decided, settling the matter for the group.

They pulled her toward the drawings on the wall, each child insisting theirs was the best, arguing cheerfully over whose purple wolf had the most legs. Evelyn let herself be led, laughing more easily than she had in longer than she could remember.

It was only when the games quieted, the children drifting toward a game of their own, that she noticed him.

A boy—small, sitting alone near the far wall, knees drawn to his chest, eyes fixed on nothing at all. He hadn’t moved the entire time she’d been there, hadn’t so much as glanced toward the noise and laughter filling the room.

"Who’s that?" she asked quietly, nodding toward him.

The braided girl’s smile faded instantly. "That’s Finn. He just got here." She lowered her voice, the way children do when repeating something they’ve overheard adults say. "Alpha Soren says to give him space. He doesn’t talk."

Evelyn studied the boy a moment longer, then walked toward him. She sat before him.

"Hello," she said softly.

The boy didn’t respond, nor did he flinch. His eyes stayed fixed somewhere past her shoulder, somewhere she couldn’t follow.

She noticed the marks—the faded bruises along his thin arm, a healing cut near his collarbone. Her heart crumpled at the sight.

"May I look at that?" she asked gently, reaching toward the cut with the lightest touch she could manage.

The boy flinched violently, scrambling backward. He shrieked loudly, his small body curling in on itself.

"I’m sorry." Evelyn drew her hand back immediately, her chest tightening painfully. "I’m sorry. I won’t touch you. I promise."

He didn’t look at her. He only cried and cried. A caretaker hurried over, gently gathering the boy into her arms, then carried him from the room.

Evelyn remained kneeling on the floor long after they’d gone, something hollow opening wide inside her chest.

What had happened to this child? A tear slid down her cheek before she registered it was falling.

"Evelyn."

Soren’s voice came from the doorway, gentle, and she wiped her face quickly before turning.

"This is why you’ve been in and out of the pack," she said, not quite a question.

He crossed the room and sat down beside her, his expression heavy. "These children are rescued from traffickers, mostly. Taken from villages too small to protect them, sold across borders before anyone notices they’re gone. We do what we can. Shelter them, feed them, find them families willing to take in a child who’s seen things no child should." He glanced toward the hallway where the boy had disappeared. "It’s not enough. It’s never enough. But it’s something."

"How long have you been doing this?"

"Years now." He exhaled slowly. "It’s not the kind of work that makes for good politics, and the fewer people who know the full scope of it, the safer the children stay. It’s just better that way."

Evelyn looked at him for a long moment, something shifting in her chest.

"I want to help," she said. "Not tonight only. Whenever you need me. My healing, my resources, whatever I have that’s useful here."

Soren turned to her, something stunned crossing his face. "Evelyn, you don’t have to—"

"I know I don’t have to." She held his gaze. "I want to."

"Thank you." His voice came out rougher than he intended. "You have no idea what that means."

She shook her head slowly, looking back toward the hallway where the boy had gone. "Don’t thank me, Soren. What you’re doing here—that’s the thing worth thanking."

She shook her head slowly, looking back toward the hallway where the boy had gone. "Don’t thank me, Soren. What you’re doing here—that’s the thing worth thanking."