18. Caleb

EIGHTEEN

Caleb

We walked back to the B&B in silence. Willow was pretending to focus on what was straight ahead, but she was really bad at being subtle, and I kept seeing her looking at me out of the corner of her eye.

“The wind will blow and freeze your face,” I joked quietly. “You’ll be squinty-eyed for the rest of your life.”

Willow huffed out a laugh, and I saw the smile that she tried to hide. “I have so many questions,” she admitted. Stopping suddenly, she reached out, took hold of my arm, and tugged me to a stop. “I know you don’t want to talk out here.” She hurried on when she saw my look. “And I’m not going to talk out here,” she confirmed.

“But?”

Willow looked up at me in amusement. “There’s always a but…”

I nodded. “Yup, always a but.”

“But…” She flashed me a smile. “But when we get inside, I want you to promise to tell me everything. ”

I was already shaking my head. “I can’t do that.”

Her expression morphed from hopeful to disappointed. “Why?”

“Because I don’t know everything.” It was true, I didn’t. “If I knew everything, I wouldn’t have dragged you out here.”

We resumed walking and she was silent until we reached the edge of the B&B property. “You must know something,” she argued softly. “So, you can tell me that at least?”

I was going to tell her nothing had changed since I put her in the truck, but the look she gave me was ready for that, and I simply nodded. Shelby waved at us as we passed her. She seemed to be checking in a new guest, as there was luggage beside her, and I was halfway up the stairs when I turned back and looked towards the front door.

Every sense was on alert.

“Go upstairs,” I directed Willow softly. “Now.” I knew she was about to argue, and I not so subtly pushed her ahead of me. “Move.”

She did, and I knew I’d get shit for manhandling her later. Turning, I faced the doorway, so when the big ass bruiser walked through it, I was ready for him, and he met my gaze immediately, ignoring the human who had noticed that her guests were in a stare-off.

“Do you know each other?” I heard the tremble in her voice. Her scent changed to fearful, and I knew I should appease her, but I was focused on the male in front of me.

“Not that I know of.” I kept my eyes on the shifter in front of me, who was now idling beside Shelby. “You look familiar.” He didn’t. The only familiar thing about him was that he was a shifter .

“Do I?” He had dark hair, shorter than mine, but still longer than most. He was clean-shaven, his eyes were hard and saw more than they should, and his shoulders were wide, but he wasn’t overly bulky. He looked solid, which is why I thought bruiser when he came in. Wearing jeans, a flannel shirt, and brown scuffed work boots, he looked very similar to me.

A traveling man who spent a long time on the road. He looked past me up the stairs. “You got someone waiting?”

“His wife has been poorly,” Shelby helpfully told him, and I almost growled in frustration.

“That’s a pity,” the stranger said.

“Yeah.” With a nod to them both, I went up the stairs and found Willow pacing the room. “How are you feeling?”

She blinked at me. “What?”

“We need to move, and we need to move soon. How are you feeling? Can we move you? We need to be out of this town.”

“What happened downstairs?” Willow stopped pacing, her arms crossed over her chest, her face determined.

“Nothing, new guest. Looks shady.” I started packing her stuff. “You look okay,” I told her, checking her over again. “But I know nothing about your illness”—or any illness—“so you need to tell me if you need more rest.”

“I’m fine.” I turned to look at her fully, and she threw her hands up in the air. “Okay, I’m not fine, but I’m better.”

That was good enough for me. “Good.” Walking past her, I ducked into the small bathroom. “We leave in ten minutes.”

“You said we could talk!”

“I say a lot of things, Willow.” I dropped her toiletries onto her stuff. When I saw she wasn’t moving, I fought back the groan. “You don’t trust me fully, I get it, but you’ve trusted me some. I just need a little bit more. We need to move.”

Heavy footsteps sounded outside the room, and Willow watched me with wide eyes when she saw me freeze. Putting my finger to my lips, I watched her nod that she understood she was to be quiet. I knew I needed to throw the shifter outside off the scent of the two of us.

Scent of the two of us . It could work…

Willow turned from apprehensive to guarded in a heartbeat. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t,” she warned in a low whisper as I approached her, her eyes locked onto mine with a mix of suspicion and irritation.

It was such a familiar look from her that I couldn’t help but smirk. “Relax. I’ve got it under control.” I pulled her unresisting body into my arms. “Punch me later,” I whispered into her ear.

“Wh—”

But before she could say more, I moved, taking the chance. My hand cupped her cheek, and my lips crashed against hers with a force that sent a jolt of electricity through me.

For a brief second, the only thing I could focus on was the intensity of the kiss—the heat, the unexpected softness, the way her scent seemed to envelop me like a warm, inviting cloud. When I kissed her, her body went stiff with surprise, but as I moved my mouth over hers, I felt her loosen. Slowly, her hands reached up and rested on my shoulders. When I pulled her closer, she came willingly. My tongue tasted her bottom lip, and Willow parted for me .

She tasted sweet. Fresh.

I took a deeper taste of her. I felt her hands slip into my hair as she melted against me, kissing me back. Her scent changed, her pheromones letting anyone with that extra sense of smell know she was here freely and hinting that we weren’t to be disturbed.

I heard the footsteps move away from the room. I knew the room on the other side of us was already occupied. I’d checked them out the first night, and Shelby’s guest book told me they were here until the day after tomorrow. Which meant the shifter was in the room at the far end of the hall.

I heard the door open and close in the distance, my attention split between the woman in my arms and the threat that was two doors down.

Pulling my head back, I broke the kiss. I didn’t miss the flushed look on her face or the slight hitch in her breath, but I pretended I didn’t see it.

“Um…”

“You did well,” I told her, moving away and going to the door, pressing my ear against it. “Thanks.”

“Thanks?”

I should have noticed the lack of emotion in her flat voice. Despite my earlier comment, I should have been more alert when I turned around, completely taken aback by the unexpected slap.

Willow glared at me. “You are an asshole! What the hell was that?” she demanded, her chest heaving, a flush creeping up her neck.

Somehow, her indignant glare and put-upon attitude rubbed me the wrong way. Massaging my jaw, I looked her over slowly, enjoying seeing the flush burn brighter across her cheeks. “A distraction,” I replied casually.

“A distraction?” Willow’s incredulous hiss sliced through the air, her hand rubbing the sting on her palm that mirrored the dull ache on my cheek. A twisted satisfaction flickered within me, knowing that she had hurt herself slapping me. “A distraction from what?”

“You,” I explained, and I could anticipate her next question, so I elaborated. “You were freaking out.”

Willow’s eyes burned bright with anger as she glared at me. “You’re a dick,” she snapped.

“Probably am,” I conceded, my gaze dropping briefly to her lips before meeting her eyes again, “but it worked, didn’t it?”

Turning her back to me, I knew she was still pissed, but I could still smell her arousal from the kiss. I gave her a moment to compose herself. I could hear her heartbeat still pounding.

With her back turned to me, I took a moment to catch up with what had just happened. I could still feel the imprint of her lips against mine, the shadow of the sensation I knew wasn’t a good idea to remember but one I wanted to explore more of.

A bad idea indeed.

Willow walked over to her small luggage bag. “Next time,” she hissed, refusing to look at me, “warn me before you pull a stunt like that again.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” I asked, failing to hide my amusement at her presumption that there would be a next time.

She didn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, she went into the bathroom and locked the door. I heard the faucet turn on, and I felt a moment of regret, knowing she had locked me out while she tried to grapple with the last few minutes.

I didn’t have time to dwell on it. Packing up all our stuff, I checked the room for anything left behind, and when I knew it was clear, I rapped my knuckles softly against the bathroom door.

Willow jerked the door open, her eyes narrowed with distrust. “What?”

“We need to leave,” I told her. “This is our window of opportunity. We need to use it.”

“Window from who?”

“I’ll explain.”

“But you won’t,” she grumbled, reaching to take a hoodie off me. “You say and never do. It’s getting old, Caleb.”

I knew she was right. I held onto the hoodie as she tried to tug it out of my hold. Willow looked up at me, and I held her questioning stare. “Just a little longer, okay?” With a deep breath, she reluctantly nodded. “Good girl,” I praised, letting the hoodie go, and I didn’t miss the skip of her breath at the term.

Filing that little nugget away for future use, I hesitated at the door.

I hadn’t planned on staying here more than two nights. It was a place to lie low while Willow recovered. But now, knowing there was a shifter down the hall from us, from her , I could almost taste the danger. I could feel it closing in on us.

I should have known better than to stay for so long.

“You got all you need?” I double-checked, keeping my voice low as I listened for movement outside.

The floorboards creaked as she moved across the room, stepping up behind me. “I’m ready.” Her tone was controlled, but her scent was a mix of fear and adrenaline.

“I need you to be fast, okay?” I asked, meeting her gaze.

She nodded, slinging her bag over her shoulder, eyes wide and alert. “What’s the plan?”

“We’re going out the back,” I said. “There’s a fire escape at the other side of the hall when we go right, past the stairs, okay? Follow me. Keep close. The truck’s close. We don’t stop for anything.”

She swallowed hard but didn’t hesitate. I could see the tension in the set of her jaw, the way her knuckles turned white around the strap of her bag. No questions, no second-guessing. That was good. We didn’t have time for either.

I eased the door open, wincing at the faint squeak of the old hinges. The hallway was bright with morning sunlight but thankfully empty. We moved quickly, our steps muffled by the thick carpet, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that every creak and whisper was giving us away to the shifter resting just a few doors down.

The back staircase was narrow and steep, leading down into a kitchen that smelled of cleaning products and the remnants of this morning’s breakfast. My pulse quickened as we reached the bottom step, the anticipation of being seen riding high. I motioned for Willow to stay close, and she did, her breath warm against the back of my neck as we edged toward the back door.

I paused, listening. The silence of the lodge was too perfect, too heavy. It pressed in on my ears, a warning in and of itself. My wolf was close to the surface.

I heard a shuffle, soft and deliberate, just outside.

Grabbing the doorknob, I turned to Willow, holding her gaze with a look that said we had no other choice. Her look was frightened, but she nodded, her hand hovering near mine. On three , I mouthed.

One.

Two.

Three.

Yanking the door open, we ran into the warm sunny morning, the heat slapping us in the face in comparison to the air-conditioned rooms. The truck was parked just beyond the old oak tree, less than twenty yards away as we sprinted across the backyard. My heart was pounding, the sound almost deafening in my ears. I could hear Willow breathing beside me, quick and shallow but steady.

We were almost there.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of movement—dark shapes hiding in the trees, watching us.

“Get in!” I barked, skidding to a stop beside the truck. I threw the door open and shoved her inside, slamming it shut behind her. I could see the figures now, two, maybe three, their faces hidden, their intent unmistakable.

To catch us.

I didn’t give them a chance. I vaulted over the hood, my boots hitting the ground on the driver’s side just as the first wolf broke free of the forest.

Something barreled into me, knocking me away from the door, and I realized it was the shifter from the inn, still in his human form.

I shoved him off, barely registering his weight, Willow pushed the truck door open, and I clambered inside, jamming the key into the ignition. The engine roared to life, and I floored it, the tyres churning up Shelby’s neat graveled parking lot.

The truck fishtailed as I jerked the wheel to the side to avoid the wolf that jumped in front of us as we tore down the road, leaving the B&B behind us. My hands were white-knuckled on the wheel, my eyes darting to the rearview mirror. I saw the shifter was on his feet, watching us drive away, two wolves on either side of him.

They weren’t following us—yet.

“You okay?” I asked, glancing over at Willow. She was breathing hard, but she nodded, her eyes still wide with adrenaline.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice shaky but strong. “You?”

I let out a deep breath. “I am now.”

“What in the actual fuck is going on?” She looked at me, anger, confusion, and fear etched on her face. “Why are they after us? Who are these people? Where the hell are all these wolves coming from?”

Her voice trembled slightly, and I could tell she was trying to make sense of something that didn’t fit into her world.

That I didn’t fit in her world.

“Not yet,” I murmured. “Let me put a few more miles between us.”

The reminder that they were behind us and could be following us made Willow jerk around to check if the road was empty.

We drove in silence for a while, the tension slowly draining away as the distance grew between us and the shifters. But the feeling lingered—the sense that we were only just ahead of the danger, that it was still out there, waiting for us to slip up .

For me to slip up.

Tightening my grip on the wheel, I pushed the truck harder down the empty road.

Whatever was coming, I’d be ready. I just had to hope that Willow would be as well.