23. Willow

TWENTY-THREE

Willow

The bus hissed as the doors closed and left us standing at the side of the road. The driver had grumbled, but Caleb was persuasive, and he’d let us off in the middle of nowhere.

Well, not in the middle of nowhere, Caleb knew exactly where we were. We were at the base of Shadowridge Peak, and I’d been dreading this almost as much as Caleb, I think, though probably for entirely different reasons.

The air had too much bite to it, and I was glad of the coat I’d picked up in the town where we had breakfast. I was decked out in new clothes. Hiking boots, thick weatherproof pants, a long-sleeved thermal shirt under a fleecy hoodie, and then the new padded jacket on top. I felt a bit like a marshmallow, but as I felt the crisp air sting my cheeks, I wondered if I had time to pull another layer on.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows, and as the fresh mountain air swirled around us, I noticed the sky remained a sharp, cloudless blue. It was the kind of day where you could see everything laid out in front of you, including the climb that lay ahead.

Standing next to Caleb, I saw him looking up at the trail that was partially hidden in the dense forest ahead. Shadowridge Peak loomed large, almost too large, and I felt incredibly small as I stood staring up at it. My stomach was in knots as I considered the insanity of climbing this thing. But with another glance at Caleb, I knew I couldn’t back out.

“It’s really big,” I said stupidly.

“That’s what she said,” he quipped, and I grinned as I heard him grunt when my elbow dug into his ribs. Caleb looked over at me, his eyes betraying his uncertainty. “You ready?”

“No.”

He nodded, and I knew he had been expecting that. Quietly, he adjusted the straps of my pack, which he carried over his broad shoulders. He didn’t look towards the peak that was his home. If anything, he looked like he was avoiding looking at it. “I’ll be right beside you,” he reminded me.

“Yeah, I know.” I looked back up at the imposing mountain. “It’s just…steeper than I thought it would be.”

I saw him fight the almost-smile, and his eyes held an amusement that warned me that I wouldn’t like what he said next. “It gets steeper before it gets easier.”

“Great. Of course it does,” I grumbled sarcastically. Taking a deep breath, I wondered if the shaking in my legs was adrenaline or fear. A sudden thought popped into my head. “It does get easier, right?”

“Sure. ”

It was a lie and we both knew it. Whatever dismay he saw on my face made him reach forward and brush a soft kiss across my lips. “You ready, or do you want to turn back?”

He wasn’t challenging me, but there was something behind his words. It was like he was testing whether I would keep pushing forward—to find out all his secrets if I carried on. Was he hoping that I turned back so he would never have to tell me about his past? After what we did this morning, after all the little kisses and touches since? He was delusional if he thought I was backing down now. Shaking my head, I looked him square in the eye. “I’m not turning back.”

Caleb considered me, seeing more than I probably wanted to share, but he nodded, and it was almost as if it was with approval. He stepped forward, his hand resting lightly on my lower back as he guided us across the road and towards the trail. Even through three layers of clothing, I could feel his touch easily. His hand was steady and firm like him, and as I was beginning to realize, being close to Caleb anchored me. He settled something deep inside me, and even though I didn’t understand it, he made me feel stronger.

The beginning of the path was easy. The trail was relatively flat and clear, but it didn’t take long before the incline started to challenge my legs. Like before when we had climbed to get to Cannon and his pack, the trees grew denser, the canopy above heavier, cutting off most of the sunlight and encasing us in an eerie shadow. Faint sounds from the road traveled to us, but they were being replaced by the sound of dirt being crushed underfoot and the occasional call of birds that nested high in the branches above us .

“You want my story?” Caleb asked suddenly, and I was ashamed that I’d almost forgotten that’s the whole reason we were here.

“Always.”

Caleb glanced at me but kept walking, his steps sure and confident. “So quick to answer,” he murmured.

“It’s why we’re here,” I reminded him and saw his head dip. “We can wait until we’re there if you want.”

But he was shaking his head. “No point, they’re already listening.”

They? Looking around, I felt the anxiety start to bubble in the pit of my stomach as I followed him. I felt a shiver run through me, and it wasn’t from the cold. “What do you mean, they?”

Caleb hesitated, his brow furrowing as though he was considering how much to reveal to me too soon. “The dead live on this mountain,” he said, keeping his voice low. “They’re waiting for me to come back to them.” He glanced at me. “I warned you,” he added almost accusingly.

“Is that why you don’t want to come back here?” I asked, but he shook his head. And I knew what he didn’t want to say. “It’s why you don’t want me here.” I swallowed past the sudden lump in my throat, but too bad, I was here, and he just had to accept it. “I’m right here, Caleb,” I assured him, like I had before. “I’m going nowhere.” Where did this confidence come from? I didn’t know, but I did know I believed every word of it, and seeing his look, I knew he did too. “Talk to me, I’m listening.”

I watched him as he gritted his teeth, and I waited when he didn’t answer immediately. Caleb’s gaze was fixed ahead, seeing something that wasn’t visible to me.

“I hate this mountain,” he started, his steps still steady and sure, and I worked hard to keep up with him. “There are ghosts up here. Memories.” He sighed heavily. “So many fucking memories.” His voice was bitter, the pain a strong undercurrent as he spoke. “Memories that are better off left alone. I avoid here because…”

“Some things are easier to bury?”

His head jerked in a sharp nod, and I didn’t push. I knew enough to know how hard it was for him to talk about this, but as we walked the trail, I knew that here, he couldn’t hide from whatever haunted him.

We walked for a while in silence, the incline becoming steeper, and my body started to protest. My legs burned, but I kept moving, refusing to give into my weakness. The path narrowed and the way Caleb led me, it soon disappeared completely, and I had to concentrate on avoiding rocks on the uneven ground. I stumbled more than once, but he was there, catching my arm, steadying me as I struggled onwards.

We came to a small clearing, and Caleb stopped, turning to face me, his eyes dark and unreadable. “We’ll stop here for tonight.”

My body screamed its thanks at the thought of a break, but I was worried stopping meant we wouldn’t go any further at all. “Here? I can keep going,” I told him stubbornly.

His look told me he knew that was a load of bull, and with a sigh, I sank onto a tree stump.

“Drink your water,” he told me, looking around. I watched as his eyes closed. Taking in a deep inhale, he opened them to see me watching him. “Drink as much as you need. There’s a stream a little further up; you can refill there.”

I almost asked him how he knew but shut my mouth when I realized it was a stupid question.

Caleb dropped my pack. He’d amalgamated both of our belongings earlier, and almost absently, he handed me a sketchbook and my tin of pencils. “Just in case,” he murmured. He pulled out a blanket and then untied my sleeping bag. When I’d asked him where his was, he’d laughed like I was genuinely funny.

“We sleep here?” I guessed, snuggling deeper into my thick jacket, wondering if I would manage to sleep in a place so cold.

“Yes, the next clearing isn’t for a few hours yet, and I would rather do the trek in the daylight.”

He meant he would rather I do the trek in the daylight. I was pretty sure Caleb would already be at his packlands if it wasn’t for me. “Okay.” I hesitated. “Thank you.”

He nodded, turning to face me. His look was guarded, his eyes wary. “Before we go any further, I need to know something.”

My heart sounded loud in my ears, but my voice was steady. “What is it?”

“Are you ready to hear it all?” His voice was low, intense. “Because when it’s out and you know, it’s a long way down on your own.”

My mouth was suddenly dry, and I sipped the water from my flask as I considered the weight of his question. The challenge was more than me physically climbing the mountain, it was the deeper trial of learning who Caleb really was. Whatever was waiting for me was more than learning about his past and his pack. It was about me too.

And that realization sent a ripple of dread through me.

But then I thought about everything that had happened—the danger, the break-ins, the crash, the hospital bed, the continuing uncertainty every time I drew something I shouldn’t know or see. The cloud of fog that swirled around my life like a storm, could be cleared when I learned about him. I’d been running from it just as Caleb had. I wanted answers, and while I knew he may not have them all, he had more than I did.

We were linked and I didn’t understand it. I may never understand it, but I knew I needed to know everything about him. Even if it was ugly, it wouldn’t change how I felt about him. I knew that now. Looking up at the mountain, partially hidden by trees and the darkness, I felt my determination harden.

“I’m ready,” I told him, my voice sure, and I knew it was true.

Caleb watched me. I saw his expression soften a fraction before he pulled that hard mask back over him, guarding himself. Protecting himself from me. I hated it, and I wanted to reach out, but I knew now wasn’t the time. He didn’t want my comfort.

Not yet. Maybe not ever again, but I would worry about that later.

He rolled out my sleeping bag, fussing over it, and I was just about to tell him to stop when he started to talk.

“We were a small pack,” he told me, his hands quick and sure as he set up a small camp for us. “My father, Amos, was alpha. A good one and a good man.” His voice sounded wistful. “ He believed a happy pack was a healthy pack,” he told me as he pulled out the food we had bought in town.

I watched as he deftly got my meal ready, a simple pre-made sandwich and chips, but I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until he handed it to me. My murmured thanks went unnoticed as he put the other food away. I didn’t ask why he wasn’t eating.

“My mother was his mate.” He glanced at me. “Mates are chosen by Luna. An alpha needs a mate for balance to counter him.” His voice was clipped and clinical. “My father was a good alpha, strong and stern, and my mother was just as strong but gentler.” He looked away, the pain etched in his face. “Shadowridge Pack was a powerful pack,” he continued, his voice rougher. “The pack was respected in the region, maybe even further. Amos commanded respect and he got it.” Caleb sat on my sleeping bag. I don’t think he noticed as he plucked at a loose thread. “I was his only son.” He swallowed hard, his fingers stilling. “To become alpha, you challenge for leadership, or the death of an alpha means he needs to be replaced.”

“Challenge?” My sandwich lay forgotten in my lap.

Caleb noticed. “Eat, Willow. Your ME needs you to look after yourself.” He waited until I took a bite, and then he continued. “Cannon’s pack, his father was a mean bastard who trod his pack to the ground. Cannon challenged him, they fought, one died, one didn’t.”

Oh my God . He made that sound so normal. “Cannon killed his dad?” I knew I sounded as shocked as I felt.

“He wasn’t a good alpha. He deserved to die.” Caleb didn’t look bothered at all.

“But your dad was good? ”

“I didn’t challenge my father,” he told me bluntly. “But I was groomed early in my life by my mother and father to take over leadership when Amos stepped down.”

“Oh. Like royalty?”

Caleb snorted but he didn’t deny it. “I was trained in combat, strategy, and leadership skills. Amos wanted to make sure I was the best I could be. He used to spend hours with me, training me himself, telling me how much promise I held. How much strength .” The bitterness was hard to hear as he spoke, but I dared not interrupt him. “My father believed that the pack seeing me training with him meant I would earn their respect and trust as he had.”

I was almost scared to ask questions. I wanted to know if it worked, but I had a feeling I would soon learn if it had.

“Not every shifter born of an alpha becomes an alpha,” he explained, looking up at me and frowning when he saw I still wasn’t eating. “If you don’t eat, I won’t continue.”

I took a bite and chewed furiously as he watched me swallow and take another bite. “Didn’t realize blackmail was in your resume,” I mumbled between bites. “I’m eating, tell me more,” I demanded.

He grinned, but he continued with his story. “Rarely, it happens, but some sons of alphas don’t become alphas. The gene…” He paused. “I don’t actually know if it is a gene,” he mused. “Anyway, the signs become evident when we hit our twenties. You know some of us join the human military?” When I nodded, he continued. “Female shifters hit their heat around their mid to late teens. It’s Luna’s sign they are ready to enter maturity and start families.”

My nose crinkled in distaste at the very misogynistic view of their Goddess. I didn’t expect a female deity to want the women of their species to set up a home and pop out babies.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Caleb scolded, a smile playing around his lips. “We are few. It’s an animal’s nature to reproduce and ensure the continuation of the species.”

“It’s archaic,” I grumbled.

“You want to hear more, or should I stop so you can burn your bra in protest?”

“Ass.” Caleb grinned at me. “Tell me more,” I insisted.

“Females, or shes, as we sometimes call them, enter maturity when they experience their first heat. Males don’t have a heat, but we get very aggressive and very destructive, and our elders discovered a long time ago that discipline and control are best learned in an environment where we must blend. Where if we do not learn to control ourselves, we expose more than just a bad temper.”

“The army does that?”

“Yes, any military service really. Some of us prefer to enter college sports and get out the aggression there, but for me, it was the army.” He lost some of his lingering humor. “Every pack has an alpha, or pack leader, and each leader has at least two betas.” He looked over at me. “Royce is a beta to Cannon.”

“Ned too?”

He shook his head. “I don’t think so, but I don’t know. I am not overly familiar with the Blackridge Peak hierarchy.” He looked down at the thread in his hands as he continued. “My father had two betas, and one of their sons, Jonah, was my best friend. We grew up together, we served together, we lost our virginity together.” When he saw my surprised look, he laughed. “Not like that. We were in the same room, different shes.”

“Right.” I looked away, embarrassed. “You were close, I get it.”

Silence descended, and I wanted to push, but Caleb was lost in thought, his memories pulling at him.

“He was a good friend?” I eventually asked.

“No. He was a traitor.”