Hildegarde was only five, but with the grime washed from her face, she looked like a little porcelain doll.
Finn scooped her up and tried to coax her. "Be a good girl, Hilda. Say 'Daddy.' I'm your daddy."
She only found him strange. Her small lips pressed into a thin line as she studied him with wide, cautious eyes. Even at her age, something instinctive in her pulled away from him, the way a pup recoils from a scent it doesn't recognize as pack.
He hadn't raised her. After a few more attempts with no response, his patience ran out.
"Narelle, you've come and you've been seen. When are you planning to go back?"
I stared at him, stunned. Then I laughed.
"You mean you want me to take our daughter back to that miserable den and keep waiting, day after day, for you to come get us?"
Finn's brow furrowed, a shadow of irritation crossing his face.
"I told you, when the time is right I'll bring you both home. The time isn't right yet."
"I know this territory compound looks grand, but there are a lot of wolves living here. There really isn't a spare den for you and Hilda. Once the outer quarters are renovated, I'll send for you..."
I cut him off, my voice flat and cold. "Give it up."