26. Willow

TWENTY-SIX

Willow

I stayed on the floor long after Caleb had left the room. I wasn’t sure I had the strength needed to stand. The charge of emotion that had spilled out into this room didn’t disappear when Caleb did.

I’d seen him react to my paintings and sketches before—a flicker of recognition, a tightness in his jaw, the clench of his fists—but this time was different. The moment he had looked at the first drawing, something inside him had broken. When he saw the next one, he hadn’t just been silent, he had been ruined as the air around him became thick with emotions I didn’t think he’d let surface in years.

All I had been able to do was sit there and watch him as his eyes traced lines of pencil that depicted scenes I could never have known, yet I’d drawn them with surprising accuracy. Scenes that I now knew belonged to him—someone who had lived through the things that I had conjured from…somewhere.

When he had lifted the sketchbook, I had seen the tremble in his hands, the paper crumpling with his grip. His breathing had been shallow and ragged, coming from him in bursts, and I realized he wasn’t just angry and upset, he was hurting . Hurting deeply. The kind of pain that coated your bones and that no time or distance could ever remove.

Or heal.

I had questions—God, I had so many questions—but how do you ask a man who has just shattered in front of you to answer them?

My heart was still racing, and I berated myself for being so incredibly blind. How had I not seen the damage I was doing to him? No wonder he wanted far away from me; every time I sketched him or a scene from his past, I was tearing open his wounds. How was he supposed to heal and move on with his life if I was constantly reminding him of what he had lost?

I’d told him I hadn’t known, and he had turned to me, his eyes dark and devastated, and asked me how I could have known. As if that wiped clean the damage I had done.

His words had given me no comfort, and I deserved none.

Caleb’s tone had been flat, devoid of emotion, but I hadn’t sensed blame, but he should blame me, because I had known, hadn’t I? Not the details, not the horror that I knew now, but I’d seen the haunted look in his eyes, the way he kept himself distant, never fully mingling with anyone. He kept his secrets close, and I’d been so wrapped up in myself, desperate for my own answers, that I hadn’t really seen how I was affecting him. But I knew it was more than a man who kept himself to himself.

I had known .

I blinked back the tears that threatened to fall, because this wasn’t about me or my guilt. This was about Caleb, about the man who fought for me and protected me, all while he carried the weight of a past I may never fully understand.

Would saying sorry ever be enough? It sounded hollow in my head, and I knew I could never apologize enough to him. I had dug up his feelings, ones long since buried, and I’d dragged it all to the surface.

My only consolation, and it was a very small one in light of this morning’s events, was that his past was never gone. It had all been there, festering within him, and I believed that it needed to be let out, but I didn’t think I was the person to bring it screaming into the light.

He’d told me he needed space, and I knew it would take a while for him to process it all before he came back, probably dreading what else I would be ready to show him.

He’d walked out of the room a different man than the one who had entered this morning, and I swore to myself I would do whatever it took to help him through this. He was alone and he didn’t need to be.

He had me.

I was all in, and I would do whatever he asked of me to help him face his past. I was sure that wouldn’t be a comfort to Caleb, but I knew that he deserved to heal, and I would do whatever it took to make that happen.

Which is why I did the one thing they had asked me not to. I stepped outside my room and went looking for answers.

When I had been brought here, I’d been so angry with Caleb I hadn’t paid any attention to my surroundings until I was alone in my room with the promise to stay still fresh in my ears.

The hallway looked military. The walls curved slightly, giving the impression of a cylinder, and I had a fleeting moment of hysteria as I imagined being inside the barrel of a giant gun, just waiting for someone to pull the trigger.

Was the someone me?

It was an absurd thought. I was no one to these people, but still, the feeling that I was the danger stuck with me as I walked down the empty corridor.

The fluorescent lights above me hummed with electricity, their brightness causing my tired eyes to wish for sunglasses or, at the very least, a dimmer switch. The hallway had impressive acoustics. Every step seemed to echo, and as I crashed along the hallway, I marveled at how I couldn’t hear Caleb or any of the others when they approached my room.

The further I went, the more I told myself this was a bad idea. Was I walking deeper into trouble?

A door opened and Doc came out of the room, looking surprised to see me as I came to an abrupt halt on seeing him.

“Willow? Are you okay?”

Was I? I didn’t think I could answer that truthfully. “Caleb’s gone for a walk.”

Doc looked over his shoulder, and following his line of sight, I saw stairs ahead. “Okay, and you”—he paused uncertainly—“want to go for a walk?”

I was going to say no, I wanted answers, but his question made me pause. Did I want some exercise? I’d been in here for three days. “Yes, I want to go outside.”

Doc didn’t even blink. He simply turned around and started to walk to the entrance, or was it an exit? Either way, I followed closely behind, the weight of what I’d done to Caleb pressing in on me until I felt like I couldn’t breathe .

When Doc pushed the door to the outside open, I practically shoved him aside, desperate for fresh air. I almost tripped over my own feet in my haste to put distance between me and the bunker as I blinked in the brightness, inhaling a deep breath of clean air, relishing the freshness.

Doc hung back, giving me the space I so desperately needed. I walked a few steps from the bunker door. The grass was soft and damp beneath my feet, reminding me I had no socks or shoes on, and my feet were going to protest soon as the chill got to them. The smell of pine and earth mixed with the crisp morning smell, and I breathed in deeper.

“I can almost feel it cleanse my lungs,” I told Doc with a smile.

“Was it that bad inside?” he asked me, half joking, but looking over at him, I saw he was as watchful and careful as he always seemed to be with me. “With Caleb, I mean.”

I hadn’t needed his clarification. Wrapping my arms around myself, I realized there was a chill I hadn’t noticed in the air. “Summer will soon be over.”

“Willow?” Doc took a step towards me. “Are you okay?”

I nodded vigorously, even though I was pretty sure it was a lie. “I just needed some air,” I told him, my voice sounding thin and shaky even to my own ears.

Doc didn’t believe me. I could see it on his face, but he didn’t push me. He simply took a step back, respecting my need to not talk about it.

I was grateful for the reprieve. For the unspoken acknowledgment that I just needed some space.

Turning myself away from his prying eyes, I looked and saw the mountain for the first time. It was stunning and high, and so damn steep. “I can’t believe I climbed this.” My voice was barely above a whisper, but I heard the huff of laughter from Doc. “Okay, I didn’t do it all myself,” I admitted with a grin he couldn’t see.

Yet again, my mind turned to Caleb. All I could think about was him. The pain in his eyes as I stupidly showed him my sketchbook. By trying to help, I had only caused more pain. I took another deep breath, filling my lungs with cool air as I steadied myself from the events of this morning.

“Did you eat my breakfast?” I asked Doc suddenly and was rewarded with a guilty flush. “That’s stone cold, Doc. Stone cold.”

“I’ll make sure you get double at lunchtime.”

“I’m hungry now ,” I reminded him. I wasn’t—the events of this morning had wiped out any appetite I had—but still, you didn’t eat someone’s breakfast. “I also have questions.”

For the first time, Doc looked uncertain. “Now isn’t the best time to ask them.”

“Why?”

His lips quirked into a smile, but he looked away. “Because I don’t have answers for you, girlie.”

“Girlie?” I thought about it. “Irish?”

“Scottish,” he corrected. “For a very brief spell, but my mum held onto some things and let go of others.”

“Like?”

“My dad.”

“Oh.” Awkward. I changed the subject. “When does the other doctor get here?”

“Later.”

Right, well that was helpful. “Until then, we do what? ”

“You want to tell me more about yourself?” he asked me, and I wasn’t surprised when he plopped down on the grass.

“Aren’t you cold?”

“Nah, I have hot blood.”

“You’re…mixed?” I hoped he wasn’t easily offended. I knew there was a better way to ask that question.

“Yeah, I get some perks, not them all.” Doc eased back on his elbows as he watched me. “Did you ever find it strange that your foster parents never adopted you?”

Wow. “Um…no.” The truth was I’d been grateful I had a home and people who cared for me, so I’d never really thought about it.

“You were with them for six years.” His head tilted to the side, his eyes searching mine like I was a puzzle. “It’s a long time.”

“I guess.” I heard the defensiveness in my voice and tried to hold back any emotion. “Not everyone gets adopted, you know. Being in the foster care system isn’t like being in a rerun of Annie .” Rubbing my hands on my jeans, I felt the chill even more, or maybe it was because I was feeling exposed that a shudder ran through me.

“They were bad to you?”

I gasped at the thought. “No! They were wonderful people.” Pushing my hair behind my ear, I knew I was glaring at him. “They did their best, and that’s all I could ask for. They loved me.”

“Well…” He shrugged. “I’d have asked for the adoption papers to be signed.”

“Says the guy who’s never been in the care system.”

“Caring and committing are two different things.” Doc’s words hung in the air between us, heavy with meaning that I didn’t want to investigate further. But I knew it would keep me awake tonight… “Did they ever tell you why?”

I opened my mouth to respond but found myself at a loss for words. The honest answer was that they hadn’t. It was a question I’d never thought to ask. I’d accepted it, convincing myself that it held no significance. Yet, as he scrutinized me intensely, I began to understand it held a little significance.

To me.

Had it always? Jan and John loved me, cared for me, gave me a home… Did it matter they hadn’t fully adopted me?

“I never asked,” I admitted quietly. “Maybe I didn’t want to know the answer.”

He nodded slowly as if he understood more than he was letting on. “The answers we often shy away from are the ones that have the most profound impact on our lives.”

He may as well have punched me in the gut.

His statement rocked me. I’d told myself that it didn’t matter, that I was fine with how things had been. But maybe I wasn’t fine. Maybe I had just buried those questions so deeply that I’d forgotten they were there, festering.

Like Caleb had.

I looked away, the weight of Doc’s words settling over me. “What’s the relevance?”

“Because it matters,” he said simply, his voice gentle. “And because I think you deserve to know why they didn’t make you a permanent part of their family.”

I swallowed hard, feeling the sting of old wounds being reopened. “And what if the answer isn’t one I wanted to hear? ”

“Then at least you’d have known,” he replied, his eyes softening. “And knowing is the first step toward healing.”

I stood there wondering if what he said was true and how that made me feel, but I remembered my foster parents, remembered how they had cared about me. So I wasn’t adopted, but it didn’t mean they hadn’t loved me. Yes, maybe it had bothered me when I was younger—this morning’s conversation suggested it still did—but my mind thought back to the sketches in my room. Knowing that someone had lived through that ? The fact I wasn’t adopted was irrelevant. There were more important things to deal with, ones that brought me here in the first place, that I needed to focus on.

“So, my drawings?” I watched Doc straighten a little. “That’s why I’m here, right?”

I watched as a small smile played on his lips. “Yes, it is.”

“Then why am I waiting?”

“We need one more person here for you,” Doc reminded me. “He isn’t here yet.”

“Right…the doctor.”

“Yeah.” He looked uncomfortable, and I wanted to push, but I didn’t. “Has it only ever been Caleb you’ve drawn in advance before meeting them?” Doc focused on me. “I think there was a better way to phrase that.”

“The only person? Yes, I think so?” I thought about it. “He’s the only one I ever turned around and found facing me,” I added ruefully.

“What was that like?” he asked, his gaze unwavering.

“Unnerving. I thought it was weird, and then I realized I must have seen him before.”

“But you hadn’t? ”

“But I hadn’t.”

“And did it strike you as odd?” He sounded more intrigued than skeptical, which was nice, but still, it was uncomfortable to be talking about it.

“Did it strike me as odd that I was drawing a man into existence?” I asked him with a flat look. “Yeah, it freaked me out.” Blowing out a low breath, I tried to rein in my frustration. “You think that I don’t know how weird this is?” I considered him and thought about it. “But then you’re a descendent of someone who can shift into a wolf…maybe this is normal for you?”

Doc laughed at me, giving me a half shrug. “You got me, but even for someone like me, living somewhere like this”—his hand gestured to our surroundings—“you’re still weirder.”

His playful comment made me laugh, the tension easing. “Yeah,” I agreed, my smile fading. “When I drew Caleb and then saw Caleb, it…yeah.”

“It’s not something you ignore.” Doc’s voice was quiet.

“No. So I walked up to him and accused him of following me.”

Doc stared and then burst out laughing. “I don’t know him well, or even at all, but I can just see the look on his face!”

“He called me conceited and arrogant, I think it was.”

“I think you’ll find it was desperate and pathetic,” Caleb said as he walked around the corner of the bunker and joined us. He was pulling his T-shirt over his head, and I looked away before anyone could accuse me of checking out his abs. Which I didn’t at all . Not for long anyway.

“Hey,” I greeted as he came to stand beside me. “Are you okay? ”

“Went for a run. Needed to clear my head.”

He didn’t look at me, but I didn’t sense any ill feelings towards me either, and I felt myself relax a little. “That’s good. Doc was asking me about me drawing you.”

Caleb looked at the doctor, his look shrewd and assessing. “Were you? Without Cannon? Or me?”

“I don’t need the alpha’s approval,” Doc said, coming to his feet.

“You sure about that?” Caleb’s voice was low, a warning in his tone, and I saw Doc flush and look away.

“It was just general questions,” I spoke up, defending the other man. There was a strange tension, so I carried on. “It’s why I’m here after all, right? To get answers.” I tugged on Caleb’s arm. “You don’t get answers without questions.”

He turned to look at me, his eyes running over me quickly, checking I was okay, but still, it gave me a small thrill that after everything from this morning, he still was making sure I was good. “Yeah, it’s been three days, and I haven’t heard any answers yet.” His voice was low and gruff, a gravelly quality that my body seemed to appreciate too, so much so that I hoped I wasn’t blushing.

Caleb’s attention flicked past me, looking over my shoulder, and I turned to see Cannon coming towards us. He took the three of us in with one look, and I noticed the look he exchanged with Caleb.

“Okay, you want answers?” Cannon asked as he came to a stop beside us. “Let’s go get them. He’s here.”