20. Caleb

TWENTY

Caleb

It was my pulse that I heard pounding in my ears. It was my instincts that told me to retreat. It was my inner voice screaming at me to let go before I dragged her into my darkness. But still, I held on, resisting the urge to run from this connection, this bond between us, even as I knew it was getting stronger.

I hated it as much as I needed it.

“You don’t want this, Willow,” I murmured, my lips brushing hers as I spoke. “You don’t know what I’ve done. If you did, you would never let me this close to you again.”

I felt her other hand rest against my chest, her palm flattening over my heart. “I know that it’s not evil.” Her lips were so close I could taste them. “I know this darkness you fight can’t take you. I won’t let it.”

“Willow…”

“I’m here, Caleb.” She pulled back slightly, her stare steady and strong. “I’m still here.”

Her words broke through my defenses .

Fuck.

I closed the distance between us, my hand pulling her flush against me. My other hand cupped the back of her neck, fingers lacing into her hair, just enough pressure to make her tilt her head up towards me.

There was a heartbeat where we both seemed to stop, the tension so thick it felt almost unbearable. Her eyes searched mine, and I knew she felt the same, the same force dragging us together and both of us were done fighting it.

I kissed her.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t an apology. It was hard and unrelenting. It was filled with every unspoken truth, every frustration, every emotion we’d been ignoring. Our mouths collided, and the world outside of the car didn’t matter. It was just me and her and the fire that burned between us.

Willow responded instantly, her fingers fisting into my shirt as she kissed me back with equal intensity. Her hunger matched mine. Her desperation to be closer was as much as my own. I could taste her, feel the way her body pressed into mine, and I knew there wasn’t an inch of space between us.

My hand in her hair tugging her head back more, I deepened the kiss as my tongue slid against hers, drawing out a moan from her that sent a shiver down my spine. It felt as if every nerve in my body was on fire, every part of me was alive with the feel of her. The taste of her was addictive, and I knew I would never have enough of her.

Willow’s hands slid upwards, smoothing over my shoulders, then higher, curling into my hair, pulling me down to her, as though she needed this as much as I did.

The kiss grew more urgent and more intense as our connection became raw and unconstrained, causing a flood of desire to well within me.

A car horn sounded, causing us to break apart as the sounds of the outside world rushed back in between us. Resting my forehead against hers, our breathing heavy, we both tried to understand what had just happened.

Drawing my head back, I took in her swollen lips, her eyes half-lidded and shining with excitement.

“Luna, forgive me,” I murmured, dipping my head and catching Willow’s lips with mine once more, gentler this time, taking my time to explore.

Pulling back, I dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. I knew what I had to do. Starting the car, I pulled out back into the traffic.

“Caleb?” she still sounded breathless, and my cock twitched at hearing it.

“You want to know?” I asked, facing forward, trying to pretend I wasn’t as affected as she was and failing.

“Yes.” I heard her apology as she answered honestly. It was who she was—unapologetically real.

“If you want to know, then you need to see.”

“See?”

Glancing at her, I nodded. “You up for a hike?”

Willow’s eyes widened in understanding. “You’re taking me to your home?”

“It’s not been my home for a long time.” I heard my regret and anger. Reaching over, I took her hand in mine.

This was right. I knew it now. As I felt her fingers grip mine with unspoken support, I squeezed back, knowing I would need her strength in the coming days .

When we were clear of the town, Willow didn’t look as we passed the crash site, and I wished I could pull her closer to soothe her discomfort.

We’d been silent for a while, both of us trying to process what had happened, but her hand was still in mine, and she hadn’t pulled away, and I hadn’t let go.

What did that mean? I was driving us to the foot of Shadowridge Peak. What was I planning? Did I really intend to make Willow hike up my mountain?

I remembered being convinced as I stood on the ridge looking down only a few weeks ago that they were trying to trick me. Now, in a few hours, was I really, willingly, escorting her up the cliff face?

“It’s not like Blackridge Peak,” I spoke suddenly, startling her. Willow turned to look at me. “Shadowridge Peak,” I explained gruffly. “It’s a bitch to climb.”

I saw her look down at her clothes dubiously.

“Yeah, you’ll need new clothes,” I confirmed. “Boots, too.” Unclasping our hands, I rubbed the back of my neck. “I won’t be able to carry you like last time, not all the way.”

“I’ll manage.”

Puffing out my cheeks, I struggled with how to word it, to make her understand.

Willow gave a light laugh. “Okay, from the coronary you’re having, I assume I won’t manage, I’ll struggle?”

“ I struggle,” I told her bluntly. “And it’s my mountain.”

“Your mountain?” Willow’s tone had a teasing lilt. “Can a mountain be yours?”

“Yes.” My answer was flat. My doubt about her real intentions once more crept in.

“Oh.” I could practically feel her thinking. “Is it, like…a pack thing?”

Clearing my throat, I checked my side mirror, hiding from her curious gaze. “It is.” Shifting in my seat uncomfortably, I cleared my throat again. “And it’s…it’s a me thing.”

How the hell was I going to get her up Shadowridge and explain all the shit if I couldn’t even say the word alpha to her?

“I’m sorry,” Willow spoke quietly. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s an alpha thing.” The knot in my gut tightened as I told her things that humans need never know. “The mountain, Shadowridge Peak, is mine.”

“Did you buy it?” she asked, not trying to hide her confusion. She wasn’t being sarcastic or a smart-ass, she was genuine.

“You think of ownership as something you bought and paid for. Something you get a receipt for,” I scoffed. “Not everything is about money.”

“Okay.” Willow moved in her seat so I could see her more clearly without having to take my eyes off the road as much. “Not everything is about money, but how do you own something if you don’t pay for it? Was it a gift?”

“Of sorts.” I pointed to the roof of the truck. “Luna gave it to us, technically.”

“Us?”

“Pack.” Even now, with her in the car, and only her, I still struggled to say the word. “Each pack, or group, who forms has the right to claim somewhere they feel is their home.”

“Is it one pack per mountain?” Willow sat forward, peering out of the windshield to take in the mountain range that looked closer than it was.

Her question was naive, but I reminded myself she was still clueless about so much regarding shifters, and up until now, that had been the way I wanted it.

“Not all shifters pick the mountains for their homes. We’re fairly spread out, and still so close together.”

She settled back in her seat, her attention back on me. “You sound disappointed.”

I gave her a tight smile. “What can I say, I like my own company.”

Willow cocked her head, studying me with those intelligent eyes of hers, seeing far more than I wanted to admit. “You say that, but I don’t think it’s company you avoid.”

“And what do you think it is?” My voice was as dry as my sense of humor, given the topic.

“Memories.”

The word hung suspended between us, filling the car with a feeling of discomfort, the kind you get when something cuts too close to the bone. I tried to keep my expression neutral, unwilling to give anything away.

“Or, maybe I like the comfort that comes with solitude,” I answered, keeping my voice smooth.

Willow snorted, folding her arms across her chest. “So, what are you saying? It’s the mountain that keeps you away from everyone?” She tsked. “It would be less insulting if you remembered I know that you just went back to it.” Willow had a shit poker face, so I could see her anger.

My jaw clenched. “I’m not insulting you. Just because I haven’t been on the mountain doesn’t mean I’m sociable.”

“The shaman says that being alone is dangerous for you.”

“The shaman told you that?” I asked her doubtfully.

“Okay, Cannon told me the shaman told him that.” She hesitated for a moment, considering her next words carefully. “They said that without a pack, you go mad.”

“Superstition.”

“Really?” I understood why she sounded so doubtful. “The spirit guide and the alpha are superstitious?” Willow shook her head as she looked away. “You are either delusional or you’re avoiding whatever is going on with you and you’ve become an idiot.”

“I’m not avoiding anything.”

“Then why do you keep running away?”

Looking over at her, I saw the determined look in her eyes, unflinching when she saw how pissed off I was.

“Sometimes, being alone is the safer option.”

“For who?”

“Everyone.”

Willow hesitated, studying me once more. “You can’t believe that.”

“Does it matter to you if I do? You’re still wanting to follow me up a mountain.”

The punch to my arm was uncalled for. “To help you, jackass.”

I let out a short laugh, seeing her rubbing her knuckles after she punched me. “Is that you also helping me?”

“Shut up.” She didn’t try to hide the small smile as she shoved her hands under her thighs and more or less sat on her hands. “And yes, by the way, I am helping. Hopefully, seeing it with my own eyes can stop my dreams or visions from showing me.”

“I hope you know what you’re getting into. ”

Willow gave me a flat stare. “Or you can prepare me?” She rolled her eyes at my blank look. “Tell me, stop stalling.”

“I can’t.” Licking my bottom lip, I saw her disappointment as she started to protest. “I will tell you, but not when I am driving. My story will start when we start climbing Shadowridge Peak.”

“Okay.”

We settled back into silence, and the miles between the car and the mountain slowly disappeared while the quiet stretched longer between Willow and me.

We’d been driving for a long time, the steady hum of the engine and the quiet all around us lulling us into a comfortable silence. We could do that, I found, sit with each other in silence and not feel the need to speak. Willow spent most of her time taking in the scenery, and I knew she was probably itching to draw.

The sun had started to dip behind the mountains, casting long shadows across the landscape, showcasing the beauty of the autumnal scenery. I kept my eyes on the road, keeping a lookout for any cop cars in case they tagged my plates and got an alert for a stolen car. Every now and then, I glanced at Willow from the corner of my eye, waiting for or expecting a conversation about the line we crossed earlier.

Kissing her had changed things. Had it? Fuck, I was useless at this kind of thing. She wasn’t the first person I kissed, not even the first human, but this felt different. I didn’t know if I trusted it.

Trusted her.

Then why are you taking her to Shadowridge Peak?

I didn’t have an answer for that either .

Suddenly, she broke the silence, her voice catching me off guard.

“You said that there are other places shifters live,” she said, looking over at me. She looked out the window again. “I can’t think of wolves anywhere but mountains.”

“Wolves inhabit forests, tundra, grasslands, and of course, mountains.”

“And are shifters there too?”

“Why? Do you think we cohabit with them?” I asked her only half-seriously.

Willow made a face at me, causing me to smile. “No, silly. I was just thinking how difficult it must be for you to blend, but if your kind picks remote places, then maybe you’re harder to detect?”

“We’re careful,” I acknowledged. “Many of my kind live on outskirts of towns and cities, usually where there is access to large areas of land.”

“For crops?” she asked, and I could see my answer had confused her.

“To run.”

“To run? Oh…you mean when you shift.”

“Yeah.” Rubbing my cheek, I looked over at her. “I wasn’t suggesting a 5K regular route.”

Leaning over, she swatted my arm playfully. “Meanie.” She digested what I had told her. “So…there’s more of you than just in the Rockies.”

“Lots more.”

“And you haven’t been in communication with any of them? ”

Frowning, I looked over at her. “What makes you think that?”

“The others,” she admitted. Her gaze shifted from me to the window, and I knew she was struggling to find the words. “They are worried that you are too alone, so I assumed that you had no contact with anyone of your kind? Isn’t that why they think you’re dangerous?”

I let out a breath, my jaw tightening. She had no idea how close to the truth she was, how much I had isolated myself after my pack was destroyed. It wasn’t until Willow, in her innocence, asked questions I’d been avoiding answers to for a long time, that I realized why the shaman was letting her know things she ordinarily wouldn’t be allowed to know.

But did my self-imposed isolation mean I was dangerous?

“I’m not?—”

“You are,” she interrupted. “My drawings, they’re loaded with violence.” Her voice was a low whisper, and if I didn’t have shifter hearing, I may not have heard her.

“Shifters run a bit more violent than most,” I said casually. “We’re men, but we have a natural instinct of the wolf, the hunter. We tend to lean towards bloody a lot.”

“Bollocks.”

Her expletive made me look over at her. “Bollocks? Not your everyday curse word.” Thinking about it, I remembered the way she’d date stamped one of her drawings. “Your foster parents, one of them was British?”

Willow looked over at me, a thin frown line showing as she studied me. “Yeah, Jan. You got that from bollocks ?”

“You date stamp wrong.”

“One could say I date stamp right . ”

“One could, but one would be wrong.” Fighting my smile, I heard her giggle and was pleased that the tension had eased once more, knowing the next thing I said would probably make it worse. “You need to sleep.” Placing my hand on her leg, I squeezed lightly, cutting off her protest. “You just got out of the hospital, remember?”

“I’m painfully aware.” Willow’s dry tone made me smile.

“Then sleep, because you’re going to need your strength.”

“Are you going to Vulcan death grip me?” She saw my confusion and made a claw with her hand. “You know, the pressure point thing you do.”

“I was hoping you would just sleep?” I offered openly, hearing the tiredness in my voice. “With no argument.”

She started to say something and then changed her mind. “Okay, can we pull over so I can lie down in the back?”

“You’re hurting?” I asked, kicking myself for not stopping sooner and letting her walk off her stiffness.

“I was in a truck that rolled,” she deadpanned. “Pretty sure I’ll hurt for a long time yet.”

“And you want to climb a mountain,” I scoffed.

“And you’re going to help me,” she shot back, wearing that determined look I was too familiar with.

Pulling over, I helped her move from the front seat to the back. It took her a few tries to find a somewhat comfortable position, but when she did, I knew that she’d be sleeping as soon as I was back in the driver’s seat. She’d been holding it off too long, and I’d been too self-involved to notice.

“When I wake up, will we be there?” Willow asked from her curled position behind me.

“Probably. ”

“You okay?” Her voice was heavy with fatigue, but I could still hear her genuine concern.

“Not sure.”

“It’s okay, Caleb. I’m here.”

The fact that she immediately fell asleep after her declaration didn’t take away the fact that those five words gave me the strength to keep driving and take her to the mountain where she’d learn about my darkness.

Yet, I didn’t turn around. I kept driving.

There was no going back now.