Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

C aleb's mind was elsewhere as he walked through the center of town. The familiar weight of the morning settled around him, the soft rustling of leaves in the nearby trees, the distant chatter of townsfolk going about their day. Normally, this routine would ground him, but today, everything felt off.

His feet moved on autopilot, leading him toward the same place he went every morning: the bench in front of the bank. The one where he always sat, pretending to blend in with the flow of town life, but really there for one reason: Rochelle.

For years, it had been part of his routine, watching over her without her knowing. A quiet sentinel, making sure she was safe, even if she didn’t want him to. Even if she didn’t acknowledge the bond. But this morning, after their heated exchange the night before, his steps faltered.

The memory of her hesitation—her silence when he gave her the ultimatum—slammed into him like a roundhouse kick to the gut. He had never asked her to choose before. Never demanded anything from her. But last night… last night, something had broken. And now the very idea of sitting outside the bank, waiting for her like he always did, felt like swallowing glass.

Caleb stopped abruptly, staring at the bank in the distance. His wolf stirred beneath his skin, agitated, wanting to go back, to sit and wait like always. But the man with the wounded pride shook his head, his jaw tightening. No more waiting.

He turned sharply on his heel and headed down the street. Coffee was a welcome scent, and he made his way to the small café on the corner. It wasn’t where he usually went, but maybe that was the point. Maybe it was time to change things up.

The bell above the door chimed as Caleb stepped into the warm, cozy atmosphere of the coffee shop. The rich scent of espresso and baked goods hit him, but it barely registered. His mind was still spinning with the weight of last night’s conversation, the anger in Rochelle’s eyes, the pain in his chest. He could still hear her words, or lack thereof. That damn hesitation and then surprise that he would make her choose. The hurt that he wasn't her immediate choice.

As he moved toward the counter, he spotted his brothers, Elijah and Gideon, leaning casually against the far wall, chatting with each other as they waited for their drinks. They hadn’t noticed him. Caleb debated whether he should just turn around and leave. But before he could act on that impulse, Elijah glanced up and caught sight of him.

“Caleb?” Elijah called, grinning as he waved him over. “What are you doing here?”

Gideon raised an eyebrow, his expression curious. “Is Rochelle out sick today?”

That familiar pang shot through Caleb’s chest again, the instinctual pull to know exactly where Rochelle was, what she was doing. Normally, he would have had an answer. Normally, he did know.

Caleb shrugged, keeping his expression neutral as he approached his brothers. “I don’t know.”

Both Elijah and Gideon exchanged glances, their smiles fading into confusion.

“You always know what’s going on with Rochelle,” said Gideon.

Caleb fought to keep his wolf in check. The protective need to turn around, head to the bank, and make sure she was okay clawed at him. But he refused. He wouldn’t let himself be pulled into that routine again, not today. Not after everything.

“It’s not my job to keep tabs on her.”

Gideon raised both eyebrows now, crossing his arms. “Since when?”

Elijah glanced out the window, his eyes narrowing as he spotted something. “Hey, speak of the devil… there she is.”

The world around Caleb slowed, the sounds of the coffee shop fading into the background as his wolf surged to the surface. His muscles tensed, his instincts screaming at him to turn, to look, to see for himself. For a split second, his control slipped.

Turn around. Look at her. You know you want to.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Caleb forced himself to stay still. He wouldn’t give in. Not after last night. With every ounce of strength he had, he pushed the urge down, locking his wolf, and his natural instincts, away.

“Is that right?” he muttered. “Well, good for her.”

Elijah blinked while Gideon studied him carefully, his eyes narrowing. They weren’t used to this Caleb—the Caleb who wasn’t hovering over Rochelle like a protective shadow, always waiting for her. And maybe that was the point. Maybe they needed to get used to it.

But even as he tried to keep his composure, the weight of Rochelle’s presence tugged at him like a chain around his chest, making it hard to breathe. She was right there, just outside the window, and every instinct he had screamed for him to go to her.

Instead, Caleb turned his attention to the human barista behind the counter. A soft smile pulled at his lips as he met her gaze. What was her name? Something to do with Christmas. She had always been shy around him, her cheeks flushing whenever he ordered coffee. He knew she had a crush on him—he could sense it, smell it even, the way her heart would race whenever he was near.

“Hey,” he said, glancing down at her name tag. “Holly, how’s your morning going?”

“Oh, um, good. Just… you know, the usual.”

Caleb nodded, smiling slightly. He didn’t care about the conversation. It didn’t matter. But it was a distraction—something to focus on other than the fact that Rochelle was so close, just outside, and he was doing everything he could to not turn around and look at her.

Elijah and Gideon exchanged another glance, their confusion deepening. “What the hell, Caleb?” Gideon muttered under his breath. “What’s going on?”

But Caleb didn’t answer. He just smiled at Holly, ignoring the pounding in his chest, ignoring the way his wolf was practically howling inside him.

He wasn’t going to give in. Not today.

Not anymore.