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Lottie never wanted children of her own. She told herself it was because the world was too cruel, too poisoned by rot and greed to bring an innocent life into. But deep down, she knew the truth: she had already given herself to a different kind of motherhood, one that began in the wilderness, when every breath they took was a prayer.
Shauna’s child, though, had always felt like hers in some spiritual sense. Extensions of that baby she had once offered her own body, her own sanity, her own blood to protect. Back then, she would have let herself be broken, shattered to pieces, if it meant preserving that fragile heartbeat. When he was gone, Lottie bore the punishment gladly, as if her bruises could balance the scales.
When she first learned Shauna had given birth again, to a daughter this time, Lottie felt a surge of joy and possession so sharp it nearly cut her open. Like the wilderness had whispered: She’s here. Yours.
She sent flowers, a card that said more than it should have, money to ease the burden. She never heard back. That was expected. Shauna had never understood, never trusted Lottie’s intentions. Why would she start then?
It wasn’t until years later, on that cursed night at the compound, that Lottie finally saw Callie with her own eyes. The girl was a flame in the dark. Wild, unafraid, charging into chaos with a gun in her hands. Lottie had been starstruck. Not by the bullet meant for her, but by the sheer force of will it took for Callie to pull the trigger. She recognized it immediately, that spark, that hunger.
Potential.
If only Lottie could pry her loose from Shauna’s grasp, smooth away the guilt and fear, and help her see the truth. Together, they could be something stronger, something unstoppable.
Poor Callie already came with a crack in her heart wide enough for Lottie to slip through. A mother who lied, cheated, killed. An irrelevant father. That kind of damage was fertile ground. Mommy issues served up like an offering, waiting for someone who knew how to water the soil.
Lottie smiled to herself whenever she thought of it. She could be whatever Callie needed. A mother. A lover. A partner in crime. The role didn’t matter, only the connection.
The wilderness doesn’t care what shape love takes, she thought. It only cares that it binds you tight. That it makes you theirs. And Lottie had never stopped listening to the wilderness.