They hadn’t talked about it at length, but Torren knew how much Aslan loved the little boy in his arms. His own heart melted into a liquid puddle every time Wren smiled at him. After hearing the pixie’s accounts of his parents, Torren knew he’d fight tooth and nail to keep Wren from having to go back there. With any luck, maybe he could get some information from the pack alpha they’d rescued Wren from. Hopefully, it would be enough to press charges against a certain Mr. Reeves. What would become of Wren after that, though? Was The Council house an appropriate place for the little one to grow up? After the stunt Kieran had pulled in the living room, Torren had his doubts. Still, something ached in his chest at the thought of giving up Wren. While he’d tried to remain impervious to the child’s charms, he had failed miserably. The minute he’d been plopped down in Torren’s lap, Wren had offered a sweet smile, traced the tattoo on Torren’s forearm, and admonished him for drawing on himself.
